Death by Fire
by Narcissa.Bellatrix
Summary: Henry obsesses over Catherine Parr, Thomas Seymour wins her over and so he sends her to the Frey wedding to dispose of Thomas in hopes Catherine will come back distraught and become his mistress, even while he is still married to Jane Seymour.
1. Chapter 1

**Co-authored with Ladyjaxs999. Taken from Courtsoflove plot bunny. Thanks to Vader's mistress for her sources and to Mimi dubois and Couture for the sources they also posted on the forums.  
**

* * *

Henry was merrier than any king in the seven kingdoms or western Europe. He had rid himself of the Boleyn witch and was married to his pure swan at last, Jane Seymour.

Life seemed golden until one day he locked gazes with widow Latimer whose husband had luckily died before the march of the righteous or as some in the north of England still called it -the pilgrimage of grace. Henry hated that Cranmer and Cromwell were brainwashing her with forbidden knowledge and books but there was nothing he could since both men were enriching him and were both vital to his government.

The queen before things escalated, knowing that this would cause a breach between her husband and her favorite brother, allowed the couple to wed. Henry was enraged but there was nothing he could but he still proposed to the new lady Seymour, however Catherine refused and a month before he and Jane announced to everyone she was with child, Catherine made her announcement.

This drove Henry mad.

He then decided after Stark refusing to leave his Volantis bitch for his eldest daughter. He knew Jane would have been happy to wed her stepdaughter to the king of the North but since he refused and Henry's lust had driven him crazy and made him angry every day that he watched Thomas Seymour -a man he raised to Baron after he'd wed his sister- publicly declare his love for the widow Latimer, he decided to send both him and his wife as his envoys to Westeros.

He had them prolong their stay in Westeros. He too wanted the Starks dead. Stark's father always refused his youngest sons' hands in marriage to his daughters, well, now it was time his son paid the ultimate price and with Robb Stark dead the North would fall to the naive Stark girl's hands who was married to the Lannister imp and when and if they find Arya Stark, he would wed the girl to one of his men or better yet to his future heir. It didn't matter to him the girl was only eleven.

Many marriages were made with a greater age difference.

* * *

Catherine's eyes followed Thomas as his eyes fell on his wife's swollen belly. Inside, he thought, my firstborn.

He had other bastards but none of them would compare to this child and what better way to rub it in Edward's face who thought of himself the greatest man in England because he'd been given the title of Viscount of Beauchamp. Now he had a child of his own, a child he would tell Edward that was made out of love and not a cuckoo like the many Anne Stanhope had put on his cradle.

None of them seemed to notice the music beginning to play was rains of castamere. But lady Stark did and slapped lord Bolton after the music ended and told them to escape. Thomas and Robb barely had time to react, everything seemed to move in slow motion.

One of the Frey men came and stabbed Talissa Stark repeatedly in her not yet swollen abdomen. Another whom Catherine and Thomas saw had a coin on his hat, a golden sovereign with the arms of Henry VIII, move towards Cate. However his intentions were not to stab her, just wound her enough so she'd lose the child and in her grief she would fall into Henry's arms.

Thomas reacted fast and stepped between them and overpowered the man easily and took his dagger and cut the man's throat. But next thing they knew there were arrows all around and everyone fell. Everyone had one on their shoulder. Cate screamed but she still felt the child inside her kick. Thomas put himself on top of her, to block all arrows flowing their way. "Cate." He said hoarsely, he could barely feel the pain. For the first time, he cared only about his wife and their unborn child. The rest be damned.

Just then the rain of arrows stopped and Thomas stepped aside. Both he and his wife sat up and clung to each other's arms.

"Lord Walder enough!" Catelyn said as she grabbed Walder Frey's wife but what she didn't see was lord Bolton come behind her slit her throat. Robb screamed "No!" He let go of his wife and went to his mother, just then he turned and saw Baron Seymour and his wife and he looked from his mother to them, then to his wife. Tears fell down his eyes, a new purpose was suddenly renewed in his heart.

Thomas knew by the younger man's look that the three of them would not make it. "Go." Thomas whispered and gestured to his wife. In a move that shocked everyone, Thomas leaped forward and stole the sword of a fallen Stark warrior and began slaughtering as many Freys he could and then he grabbed Frey's wife. As he did and everyone stopped, it gave Robb and Catherine enough time to escape. She was wounded but not enough to plead with him to go back for Thomas. "It's too late for him." Robb said hoarsely and dragged her out, crying and screaming at Thomas not to leave her.

"Cate I am sorry." He said. He heard men shouting outside, he did not know if she or the king of the North would escape but at least he'd given them a chance. Lord Walder Frey laughed.

"Ha, ha, you are a fool. Did you not know Henry, your own lord and master organized this, he was tired of the so called king of the North, his father had refused to wed any of his sons to his daughters, same as he refused my daughter, but no matter he as your wife and your bastard will die."

"Why my wife? Why?!" Thomas screamed unable to believe his king could do that but then again, he should not be surprised, Henry Tudor was known for his cruelty, yet he could not bring himself to believe it.

Lord Walder Frey laughed louder and told his sons to shoot but Thomas held the sword closer to his wife's neck and everyone hesitated.

"What do you think to do? You think vermin like you will intimidate me?"

"Vermin like me can! I swear to my god I will-"

"You will what?" Lord Walder Frey taunted.

"If you do not let my wife leave this castle I will cut your whore's throat."

"Do it I will find another." Walder Frey said with a shrug of his shoulders and laughing at the man's stunned expression. Just then he whispered something in his soldier's ear who sat next to him.

A clever lie, his commander thought and rose from his table and told Thomas Seymour "Your wife my lord is dead, king Henry's orders were to kill the child if it was born. The screams you heard were surely hers. Her body will be dumped in the river and your child's body if you want to see it one last time before we give it to our dogs for food."

Thomas let out a powerful howl. "Noooooooo!" Damn them! He looked at the pleading red haired girl and true to his oath, he slit the girl's neck and then dropped his sword.

Cate -he thought.

"Your wife and child are gone Baron Seymour."

But Thomas did not hear their taunts. Just then an arrow pierced his back and Thomas screamed and before he fell one of Frey's soldiers who carried Lannister, Frey, and English gold, embraced him and whispered in his ear "King Henry sends his regard." and stabbed him repeatedly in his stomach.

"That is what you get for refusing Henry his pleasures."

Thomas wanted to tell him to go to hell but he could not speak, gurgles of blood were the only sound that came from his mouth and he spit at the man's shoe as he approached, and then he closed his eyes and knew no more.

The Frey soldier chuckled as did the rest of Frey's men. However this one could not help but admire the way Thomas Seymour fought so valiantly to protect his wife and unborn child, such character deserves a reward so he rewarded him tossing a coin to the man's body. "For the boatman lord Seymour." He said and turned his back.

* * *

Outside everything was mayhem. Robb massacred a few men, he injured some, and freed Greywind from the kennels where he was being kept. He found Ser Sandor Clegane, a Ser no longer he explained, holding an unconscious Arya.

Robb wanted to spit at the man but seeing no danger from the man and besides, everyone was after him and lady Seymour, he decided to follow the man to safety.

* * *

Catherine cried for Thomas' death. "Why?" Arya, Sandor, and Robb looked at each other. They found Brynden Tully along the way and freed him from Frey and Lannister forces. They were unsure if they should tell her the truth. She'd been injured but thankfully Robb had acquired some healing skills from Talissa, his fallen wife, that helped her heal and managed to save her and her unborn child.

Finally, they decided to tell her.

"My lady," Robb began but he grew quiet. Arya decided then to break the silence, her words cut deeper than swords but she didn't care. The woman needed to hear it. Any man who served a Lannister deserved to die and was a dog. "Your king is no better than our king, you are under our protection now. If you go back, you know they will kill you and your child."

"Arya!" Robb yelled but Brynden laughed despite himself and told him to let her. "She is right." Blackfish, Ser Brynden Tully said. "I am sorry my lady but it's the hard truth, and better to accept it now than later."

Cate nodded, her mind devoid of any thought.

* * *

After Catherine went int labor, Jane followed her after hearing of her brother's brutal death, however she gave birth to a daughter.

Edward was the one to tell his king, he was disappointed in the situation but not at Jane. He always admired his sister, he knew he should feel hatred at her but strangely he did not. Not when he saw the child was born with dark reddish brown hair like His Majesty. His Majesty however saw her as a Seymour bastard and told Jane she was useless and that he would sooner see that bastard drown and he should have never divorced Anne and even Catherine of Aragon -he screamed- was a better wife than she for at least Mary was beautiful and that child was ugly.

Jane cried and begged him to stop but he did not and when she told him to have mercy, that they would have more children and that this was a good sign and she felt her child a blessing after all she had suffered since Thomas' death and even went as far as to say that they should admit his wife at court whom she had heard had given birth during her exile to twins.

Henry grew livid and told her "Well good! Maybe we should, she gave your bastard brother two children and one of them a boy and now she's run off with that bastard king of the North and will likely give him sons while you've given me nothing but another fucking daughter! You are a fucking mare! A fucking mare and not even a good one!" He said then hearing the baby cry, he grinned sadistically at both mother and the ugly creature, adding "I thought that killing your brother would do me some good but all it did was bring me pain. I should have divorced you and married her."

"Henry, no, what are you saying?"

"Exactly what you are hearing Madame except your brain is too little to comprehend. I killed your brother, I, and only me. I organized everything with Lannister and Frey and ordered the murder of that bastard king of the North and his commoner wife but little good it did me." He said and turned his back. Tired of the deafening silence that followed he left.

He should have turned, for if he had he would have seen the blond haired, pale, beauty's features become distorted and the sweet, brainless creature that was Jane Seymour die and supplanted with something that was far more horrifying than his late Spanish wife and Boleyn wife combined.


	2. Chapter 2

Frey sent more men to search for them. Catherine spent endless nights looking after her children. She named them after Thomas' father and her mother like they had agreed if they had boy or girl. Little John and Maud slept peacefully in her arms.

They had found an Inn. As usual nobody asked them questions. Nobody cared about lions, wolves, Freys or any other house here. The language they spoke was gold and silver and Robb had some to spare. He visited her room daily. There was a cottage he found, the one you only find in fairy tales. It would have made for a great place to raise his wife and child.

At the thought of his wife and child, Robb's heart sank.

He felt awful but part of him didn't feel such sorrow for Talissa as he should have felt. He guessed he had more sorrow for failing to protect her and their unborn child.

He was ready to die with them when he heard Baron Seymour telling his wife to leave, something in him snapped and he knew he had a new purpose in life -to live and make sure that lady Seymour lived.

When he looked at the two children he couldn't help but think of his father, lord Eddard Stark, both children were dark haired like their father but they had their mother's silent nature.

He silently came into the widow's rooms. Thrice wedded, thrice widowed, he thought. The children were sleeping next to her. He took one of them, the girl and saw her eyes were opened.

She stared at him and for a long hour they did nothing but stare at each other.

He remembered when she and her brother had been born.

Lady Seymour had labored for days, for a minute they thought she was not going to make it, and when it came time to decide between her and the child, lady Seymour yelled at Arya who was present, and told the girl to tell Robb that chose the child over her but Robb would not have it. It would be both or no one. So they waited and they prayed for her, minus Arya who said death was her only god and if death was merciful he wouldn't take her. In the end all their prayers were answered and lady Seymour gave birth to two perfectly healthy children.

Robb put down the baby and called Greywind. Lady Seymour disapproved of Greywind yet Greywind did not disapprove of her and sometimes he came into her rooms to guard the children zealously as if they were his own.

Greywind sat next to her bed. Robb sat next to him. He made a few sounds that Robb understood too well. He was sad as Robb, he knew what he had lost and how much it meant to him, and what he had gained and how far he was willing to go to protect it.

"Protect them old friend." He said to his direwolf and fall asleep on the floor. The wolf climbed on the bed and kept his gaze fixated at the two babies, he would not sleep until the sun rose in the sky and the mother woke.

* * *

Edward was tired of sleeping in the same bedroom as his wife, Anne. He went to seek solace in Westminster Abbey chapel, the chapel that had been constructed by one of England's greatest heroes and the founder of their ruling dynasty, Henry Tudor.

Edward never found what was so special about it. He admired the man for taking what he wanted but everyone knew that had it not been for his mercenaries he would have never achieved it. He sighed and took a handful of dirt, a custom he had been used to since he was a child. He taught it to Thomas and Jane. He said it would grant them magical powers and make them invincible. Jane was always too careful not to contradict him and Thomas ...

Thomas contradicted him no matter what. Looking down at his dirty hand, he could not help but miss his roguish brother. He knew he had tasted the forbidden fruit too. He didn't doubt some of his girls were his, but Thomas could never help his nature. And ironically it was him who got his wish and married the love of his life.

Edward would never forgive him for that.

Thomas was the only thing that Edward had clung to, that made him proud of what he was. That made him hold his head up high because no matter what, Thomas would always be a lecher, a gambler, a fool, and a pervert, and yet he had won in the end.

"Damn you Thomas." Edward said throwing sand at the King and Queen's sarcophagus. Even tyrants were rewarded with true love, why couldn't Edward?

He knew love was irrelevant to people like him, but damn it all to hell! He just wanted to feel loved, to love and have someone he could fuck and yearn for and scream her name when he made love. He knew what the others called him 'the ice prince' and he had no trouble with that. It kept him from being hurt, after Catherine and now Anne, it was better to be a cold fish than to be someone everyone took advantage, like their oaf king.

"Damn you." He repeated when he got to the palace. He intended to tell Jane of his little incursion, she and he had grown closer during their period of mourning and following His Majesty's outburst at her and Anne's constant mocking at them, they'd found solace in each other. They were all they had left now. Their father dead, their mother dead not soon after, and their brother brutally murdered by their jealous king, they had no one else to turn to. And while Edward hated depending on someone, when he was close to Jane, his soul felt whole.

"Jane?" He knocked on her chamber doors. Nobody answered. Her chambers were deserted. Edward found it odd.

"Jane?" He asked again and again no answer. He was about to leave, feeling hurt and wounded that Jane had refused to see him in his time of greatest, when, sobs made him turn and he screamed her name, anxious to get there. Jane's sobs grew louder as he neared her bedchamber. He kicked the door open and what greeted him, shocked him.

"Edward." She said her voice broken as her body. Her hands were filled with blood.

"What happened?" Edward asked though he knew the answer. Jane's thighs were bloody and her bed sheets, he suspects had not been changed for days.

"Henry ... he came and he told me he would give me another chance. I did as you told me to, I told him that it was my fault and I would leave and he fell for it but then he grabbed me, his breath smelled of alcohol and I told him no. But he took me and forced himself on me. I can't remember when but I remember feeling despair and emptiness when he ... did what he did on me." Jane's face twisted in disgust and for the first time, Edward saw in her eyes utter hatred for the man who had once felt so much to her.

Black beard, tall, proud, and his eyes shining of love.

Everyone said the Seymours were opportunists but it didn't matter because their former queen was dead and Henry was hers and only hers to love.

What a fool she was.

Her face twisted showing nothing but hatred, utter hatred for her husband and herself for allowing this to happen.

"I believed he would leave. I told him to leave, I told him never to visit my chambers again." She gave a dry laugh. "He said 'I am the king of England my dear and you are nothing but my brood mare' and afterwards he whispered in my ear 'Catherine' then he said 'Anne' and he fell asleep."

Edward's face fell. He didn't know how long he had his fists squeezed but when he looked up at Jane, their eyes met and both gazes mirrored each other's feelings. Hatred, sorrow, desolation, broken dreams.

"I am a live girl in his bed, the girl he killed the lady Elizabeth's mother to marry and he prefers those two women over me." Edward got closer to his sister, like him she was too proud to admit she needed comfort but she was fragile at the moment and she would have welcomed any comfort. Edward kissed her forehead, even with her cold sweat, he could smell her perfume and it was intoxicating.

"Perhaps he is right. Perhaps I am just a brood mare." She spoke the words with such hatred and conviction that it angered Edward.

"No." He said grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. "You are not a brood mare, you are more than the rest of his whores combined, you are more than them, you are more than Catherine and Anne Boleyn combined, you are Jane Seymour, and he is a fool for preferring cheap whores and dead women over a woman who has given him so much." He tipped her chin with one hand and lifted her head so she'd lock her gazes with him again. "Listen to me Janey, I love you, I have always admired you. You have never spoken a word against him or any man and he should feel grateful because you gave him a beautiful daughter, a healthy living daughter that is more beautiful than all the rest."

Jane's sobs slowly decreased and she stared at her brother.

Blue eyed.  
Golden hair.  
Fair face.  
She thought she was staring at her own reflection.

Their faces slowly approached.

Blue eyed.  
Golden hair.  
Fair face.

She closed her eyes and repeated the words in her head.

_Blue eyed. Golden hair. Fair face._

And let herself go when his lips touched hers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Co-authored with Ladyjaxs999. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed. Warnings: Mild sex scenes/ Incest.  
**

* * *

Her lips felt soft against his own.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

He knew that this was forbidden. Jane was his sister, he shouldn't be touching her in this manner, thinking of her as man thought of his lover. He knew that such practices were condemned in the bible.

And those that did not repent would be condemned to spend the rest of their life in purgatory. This alone should made him push away from her and leave the room before they did something they regretted and couldn't take back.

Yet he didn't push away from her, he deepened the kiss, causing her to moan. Jane held onto him tightly as though he was her anchor. She didn't have to speak he knew that she was afraid that he was going to leave her.

He wanted to reassure her that he was going no where, he would not leave her like their parents, Tom, or Henry.

He then realized he loved her, and not how a brother loved a sister, but as a man loved a woman. Pulling her against the bed, he pulled his lips from her, she moaned in disappointment. Then his eyes travel across her bruised swollen lips. Her cheeks were flushed. She looked at him with passion and yearning in her eyes. Henry was an idiot. How could he not see the beauty before him?

He glided a hand over her cheeks. He felt her hands run through his hair. He kissed her again gently. He then planted tiny kisses along her neck. He wanted to claim her in the most primal way and mark her as his own.

He realized that he wanted to go further then just marking her. He wanted to take her in the full sense of the word. But looking down at her she looked so vulnerable. He couldn't do that to her. He could tell that she was not ready. He wanted the next step to be when they were both certain that this was what they wanted.

He tempted to pull away, but she just held onto him desperately. Her eyes filled with panic. He immediately began to sooth her.

"Please don't leave me," she begged him.

He sighed, he didn't want to leave her, but he couldn't risk them being discovered. His thought's went to Anne Boleyn. knowing full well the price that she paid when Henry thought she had cuckold him with other lovers including her own brother.

The sentence had been death.

He shuddered, he would not let that happen.

Considering that his sister had just given the King another daughter, he had no doubt that the King would believe some wild rumor that would come up against his sister.

"Janey, I have to go. I can't risk us being caught. You know what happened to the harlot?" She knew fully well what happened. Her enemies still taunted her with the harlot death. Saying that she stepped over Anne's dead body to get to the crown.

Which was ridiculous, like her Anne knew what she was getting into. This was a highly political game. She had dealt her cards, and had lost, losing her head in the end. And the fact she herself had stepped over the dead bodies of Thomas More and Cardinal Fisher, made her enemies' taunts that much more irrelevant.

"Then can you just stay with me until I fall asleep?" She asked her brother. He nodded and pulled her close. They kissed one last time. She then rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes.

He couldn't help but think that she looked like an angel. He then loving stroked her blond tresses.

He couldn't help but feel angry. He knew that people would be disgusted by this. No doubt calling Jane a harlot and brother fucker. And him a sister fucker, and a traitor to the King. But Henry can walk around and treat Jane any way he pleases, including violating her in the worse way, and murdering their brother simply because he had taken a potential mistress from him. And still be looked upon with respect?

To him there seemed to be no justice in the world.

He knew that it was wrong to wish death upon the King, but he prayed that the bastard would just die. Preferably a slow and painful death.

Once he was assured that Jane was asleep. He got up from the bed and crept out of the Queen's private rooms. He shut the door behind quietly, as he left he didn't see the shadow that flickered on the wall.

Just then Lady Rochford stepped out of the shadows wearing a stricken look on her face.

* * *

Spanish Ambassador, Eustace Chapuys, let out a sigh of aggravation. He was getting to old for this. He had just come back from seeing the Lord Chancellor, Thomas Cromwell.

He had been trying to arrange a marriage between Princess Mary and Don Luis, but that all came to ruins just a short time ago. Cromwell had called him to his office telling him that the King was no longer interested in the prospect of marrying his daughter to Don Luis.

Instead he already made an alliance with the house of Frey. "Walder Frey has agreed to take Mary as his ninth wife." Chapuys looked at Cromwell in horror.

You would have to be dumb, blind, and mute not to have heard what happened during his last wedding with his last bride. He had taken the occasion to get some vengeance on the Starks. He had attended to murder the King of the North Robb Stark and his men. He only succeeded in killing Starks wife and his mother.

If that was not bad enough, Henry had sent his brother-in-law, Thomas Seymour, on a diplomatic mission to Westeros. Both Seymour and his wife Catherine had attended the wedding. He remembered that Lady Seymour was also several months pregnant. He had heard that Seymour had been honorable in saving his wife, who fled the wedding. Along with the King of the North. He heard that Frey's men had caught up with the Lady Seymour and had killed her, he was not sure when it came to Robb Stark.

He heard from Princess Mary that the queen had been inconsolable over the death of her brother. Apparently out of all her siblings it was Thomas that she was closest to.

What he didn't understand was why the King was allying himself with Frey knowing this? Maybe he didn't want to know. The whole thing stunk. Maybe he was better of not knowing? But then again he had Princess Mary to think about. And from what he heard Frey didn't seem all tore up about the death of his new bride. He heard that Catelyn Stark had offered to spare his bride as long as he spared her son. He had told her cruelly that he could always get another bride.

Eustace felt disgusted, this barbarian from the North was not a suitable husband at all for Princess Mary. He needed to get in contact with his master and see if there was any way the Emperor could interfere. And then there Mary, how was she going to react to the marriage?

Later that day, he was on the road to Hatfield.

Mary was surprised to see him.

"Eustace," she quickly greeted him, he had told her long ago that she could call him by his given name. They then walked into the parlor where she offered him a seat. He waited for her to take a seat and then he sat down.

Usually when Eustace visited her he always wrote a ahead of time letting her know that he was coming. He had told her in the past that he found it rude to pop in unexpected.

She couldn't help but think that something was wrong. She knew that he was trying to get her father to consent to a marriage between her and Don Luis. She wondered if he was having any luck with that? She couldn't help but wonder if her father was still trying to make her suffer for defying him for so long? She should have been married by now, have children of her own. Instead it seemed like she going to be condemned to live at Hatfield for the rest of her life.

"What's the matter Eustace?" She asked, she was not the type of person to beat around the bush. If there was something that needed to be said, she wanted it being said now.

Eustace sighed and gestured her to sit down, Mary asked why but Eustace's eyes told her not to argue.

She listened attentively, her eyes going wide as he finished. "The king believes an alliance with lord Walder Frey is vital. He is after all the third most powerful man in Westeros after Tywin and the King and his victory over the Starks have made his power be uncontested. I am sorry Princess." He added seeing her stricken face.

"No!" She screamed. "My father cannot do this. Lord Walder Frey is an old man Eustace, he cannot wed me to that man ... he will treat me badly."

"Princess ... I ..." he stopped. What are you doing? His mind asked. His Princess was in need of comfort not lies, and besides, he didn't think he could lie to his Princess.

She collapsed from her chair and hid her face in her hands, sobbing.

Eustace wrapped his arms around her. "Can't the Emperor do something? I am sure my cousin would agree to pay for my dowry, maybe you write to Granvelle and tell him-"

"No, I am afraid I cannot." Eustace interrupted her. Granvelle had other important things to attend to and their master did not care what happened to his cousin, but he didn't tell her that. He opted for a white lie instead, telling her that the Emperor would appeal her case before the pope and once the pope urged Henry to marry her to Don Luis, he would give her hand in marriage to the Portuguese prince and she would be living happily with him in Portugal.

He didn't know whether his princess believed his lie or not. What he did know is he would appeal to the Emperor, although he knew it would prove in vain, he had to try.

"He killed his wife."

It was not a question and Eustace answered with the truth in the best way he could. "Yes, he did though he was not the one holding the sword, that was lady Stark and your stepmother's late brother after her."

"But he didn't lift one finger to defend her, did he?"

"No." He said casting his eyes down.

"So he doesn't care if I were to die. Why is my father marrying me to that man Eustace, I thought he loved me. You said if the queen gave him a son he would marry me to Don Luis, he supported the union, you told me he did."

"Princess you can't blame for what goes on your father's mind. I thought he did, we all thought he did but your stepmother giving birth to a daughter changes everything." Eustace told her.

"Will my father kill her like he killed the harlot?"

"I don't know Princess." He said, that was the honest truth. With a daughter instead of a son, it changed everything. The king was more desperate for a son and Walder Frey was an opportunist but he paid Henry a good amount of gold and Tywin Lannister was not far behind. Vultures that they were they wanted all of the world under their control. He even heard he had considered marrying Mary to Ser Jaime Lannister if he abandoned his oath as a man of the kingsguard, but in the chose her to be Walder Frey's ninth wife instead.

"He killed her too."

Eustace's brow furrowed in confusion. "Who?"

"My mother." Mary answered. "He killed her with his constant backstabbing and lies, he killed her, he sentenced her to die when he sent to the More. He knew she would die and he never lifted one finger to improve her conditions." If she wasn't really his wife then by law she was his sister in law because she had been married to his brother Arthur, but that didn't matter to him. He wanted to get rid of Catherine of Aragon in the most painful way possible to teach everyone a lesson -that no one was safe from him.

Eustace comforted his Princess, pulling her back for another embrace. He hated her father. He condemned those around him to a life of unhappiness. He was beginning to think that it was his fault. God would not grant him a son because he had displeased him breaking one of his commandments and sleeping with all those women. He had moved heaven and earth to divorce Catherine and instead he got Anne and another daughter and then he killed her so he could marry again and have a son, and that resulted in yet another daughter.

Eustace shook his head. He knew it was treason, but god, why didn't he struck Henry down once and for all? His mind briefly drifted to the king's would be mistress, the woman who opted love instead of being Henry's whore. She was there somewhere. Although reports where Frey's men had found her and killed her, he didn't believe them. He remembered meeting the woman, she did not look like a woman who would give up so easily.

His mind also drifted to Robb Stark. If they were together, if he was protecting her and if she had managed to give birth to her unborn child. He knew her heretic sympathies but like the queen's older brother, the woman had earned Eustace's respect and he prayed for her, and wished she was well cared for.

* * *

Arya put an arrow through a deer. She brought game to the cottage Robb had found. He didn't know how long he would be gone but he promised the Seymour widow and his sister he would be back.

Arya did not like the sound of it. Every time a Stark said that it literally meant he was never going to be back. Arya wanted to follow him, hunt, and avenge their family's death with him, but Robb ordered her to stay. Knowing better than to argue with him after what he'd lost, she stayed.

She got through her boredom hunting animals, skinning them and cooking them, something she had learned from Hotpie.

She was not good at it, Catherine had to help the poor girl who insisted on being dressed as a man and behave like one instead of tending to her religious studies and knitting and looking after Grey wind and the babies as Catherine thought a lady of her station should. She was reminded of lady Mary when she was with lady Arya. There was even a certain likeness to His Majesty's eldest daughter.

She remembered hearing stories that Anne Boleyn's daughter like her was graceful and sweet while Mary had a temper. She thought the stories exaggerated but Thomas told her they were not and he even said that Elizabeth Tudor had a dangerous temper of her own and loved throwing tantrums, although her tantrums tended to be born out of mere whims and a pompous attitude she'd inherited from her mother while Mary Tudor, just by looking at her-he said- you could tell her temper was dangerous.

Catherine wanted to make a lady out of Arya but she refused to be lectured. "I didn't listen to my parents and now they're dead. Besides what good does acting like a lady does?"

"It brings you closer to god." Catherine said one night they were having dinner. Arya was holding her son, and grinning at him. The babies despite the girl's hard eyes found her presence comforting.

"There is only one god and his name is death."

"No his name is Jehova and he is merciful."

"Nothing in this life is merciful. You should know that by now." Arya said and left with her son, Thomas, leaving Cate with her daughter Maud in her arms feeling more alone.

Sometimes she thought about Thomas and she found herself thinking to Robb Stark as well, the young wolf, the King of the North who'd lost more than his bannermen and soldiers that day. He'd lost the three people that mattered the most in this world, his mother, his wife and their unborn child.

Cate's heart went out for him but Robb Stark did not want to be pitied, but Cate could see that he wanted to be comforted. The man was not made of ice. He was not as his father, forged in cold weather despite being ruler of Winterfell. He was a man like any other and an honorable man at that, Cate thought.

She prayed for him before she went to sleep. She could hear Arya in the next rooms mutter the names of all those who had wronged her and her family, and wished them death. She wished the girl's heart would not be filled with darkness but Arya had said nothing would change her and she was foolish for still believing in her god.

Cate closed her eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Co written with Ladyjaxs999. Enjoy.**

* * *

Catherine stopped Robb from executing two prisoners. "Don't do it."

"Why did you stop me?" He asked when he'd gone in the back of the cottage where they were tied up in two trees. He knew Catherine -as he'd gotten used to call her- would have something to say.

She was one of the few of their odd group of misfits who still believed in him. He didn't want to destroy that image but he wanted to avenge his family. "This men destroyed everything. Their father killed my mother, killed my pregnant wife and robbed me of my kingdom."

"You still have a war to fight. Many men will die but these two don't need to die today. They need to be judged first."

Robb smirked. "You remind me of my mother." He grabbed one of them and put the blade to his throat. "Tell lady Seymour what you told me."

"My lord-"

"Tell her!"

The younger Frey's sons looked at the Baroness Dowager and told him every word his father had said.

Catherine remained calmly the whole time. "Is that all?" She asked, her voice neutral and a simple smile on her lips that did not reach her eyes. They showed how she truly felt and the young lord Frey said nothing more knowing that this woman, if she wanted, who had the command of life and death over him, could command her lord to kill him.

Robb also saw it. Catherine tried to hide it but she was angry at these men and her heart yearned for vengeance yet she said nothing and remained silent a long time until Robb broke the silence and tied the man against the tree then took the other one and made him kneel before them.

"You, what's your name?"

"Zachary."

Catherine blinked.

"That's not a Westeros name. Where are you from Zachary?"

"England." Zachary told him avoiding the lady's gaze.

"You betrayed lord and lady Seymour then."

"No, my lord I swear on my honor I did not."

"Your words mean nothing to me Zachary and you should have stayed in England if you wanted to avoid my wrath. Haven't you heard I am the young wolf?"

"My lady, I swear to you I did not betray you. The order was clear. I had to deliver you and your lord husband to lord Walder Frey. Afterwards he would do to you as His Majesty told him."

"He told you to murder my husband."

"No, my lady that was not I."

"But you were present."

"Yes."

She saw the truth in his eyes yet she asked: "Why did the king want Thomas dead?"

"My lady ..." He said in a grievous voice, his eyes filled with tears. He liked the Seymours, they were the family responsible for his family's ascension. They had never done anything to deserve such a fate and the Baron Seymour had such high hopes from his brother he would one day become Lord High Admiral. "... The king wanted you for a mistress, he offered all kinds of titles to your lord husband but he refused. After the child was born, he said, you two would return to court and you would go back to his estates, away from the king."

"But Henry Tudor would not have that would he Zachary?" Interrupted Robb brusquely. "He is a man who can't afford humiliation and he preferred to see a potential courtier dead than return to court triumphant with his pregnant wife who would have given him a son. Who did give him a son and word has reached Henry and now he wants her back, not only to turn her into his mistress but his wife as well."

Catherine's eyes shot up at Robb. She looked down at his captive. "Is this true?" She asked, her eyes narrowing with hatred for a man she had admired all her life. She had dedicated her works and her faith on Henry VIII. She believed he was Moses delivering his people from the tyranny of the Catholic Church and ushering them into a new era.

Now she saw that was not true and he was in reality the devil, a wolf disguised in sheep's clothing doing his conscience bidding, never mind every loved one suffered or died in the process.

How could she have served such a man?

The answer was a simple. She was a fool, same as Thomas and everyone. And now he wanted her for a wife. Did he think she could forget Thomas so quickly? That she could forget what he did to obtain her? And her children? Would she leave them to give that monster new ones? No. She shook her head vigorously. She would never give that monster children.

Robb saw the tears in her eyes and mentally cursed himself for showing her this. But she had to hear it. Arya was right. Catherine Seymour Parr had to get rid of those romantic notions that this was a fight between good and evil. It was not. His wife had died for that belief, she had begged him too to spare the Lannister boys and all that got him was Karstark turning against him and the res tof his army turning with him.

He executed Karstark for questioning his orders but that had turned his men against him, including Roose Bolton who finally saw a chance to unseat Robb Stark and take his title of king of the North from him.

He had failed his family, his countrymen. He was not going to fail again letting vermin like these go unpunished. If the lady Seymour wanted to keep her romantic notions about good and evil, fine, he would let her. But Robb would not live by them any longer.

After Zachary told lady Seymour everything that had happened since she and Robb escaped from the Twins, Robb told him that was enough.

Zachary knew that his end was coming and that this great lady would do nothing to stop it. "I am sorry my lady. I only did what His Majesty asked me to. Please forgive me. He told me if the rumors that you were alive and giving birth were true, that I should bring you back, I am sorry."

"I forgive you master Zachary but I cannot say the same for our king. His Majesty has taken the only husband I ever loved from me, he's left my children fatherless and he betrayed both our trust. That I can never forgive." She said looking away as Robb unsheathed his sword.

She thought of Thomas and what would he have done. No doubt the same. He was not a merciful man, an honorable man, the kind of man Robb Stark was but in his last moments he had sacrificed himself for her proving to everyone that he could be honorable. But most importantly, that he loved her and had given his life to save her and their unborn.

Her thoughts then went to Henry's queen. She'd never gotten along with any of her sisters in law. Anne was rude and vulgar though to everyone she seemed elegant and sweet, perhaps arrogant -some confessed- but nothing else. Catherine knew the truth, she had known the truth for a while. Her husband had confessed to her what she already knew -that he and Anne had been sleeping together and two of her girls were Edward's while the sickly one was likely Bryan's and he had been doing that merely out of spite and envy for his brother's success. A success he felt he deserved more than Edward.

As for Bryan, she never liked that man but he knew that he gave Anne Stanhope comfort. Something she didn't get from her cold husband. Despite this though, she liked Edward. He had always been kind to her but she feared he was too cold and he loved hiding his emotions but Catherine could see that behind those ambitious eyes lay a tortured soul and the only time he let his emotions show was when he was with Jane.

She loved the woman at first and even tried to speak to religion about her but Jane was not receptive towards the true faith, she still adhered to Catholic tradition -something that Cate no longer believed in and seeing that they would not agree on this key issue, Catherine decided not to form a relation with the woman.

Nonetheless, that did not excuse Henry VIII for the way he treated her. The woman was desperate for love, Zachary said, and she had given him a daughter, her predecessor's greatest failure and she was so desperate for a son, she'd gone to her knees to Cranmer and prayed with him.

Catherine guessed she should feel proud that the woman had been brought to her knees and acknowledged the true faith but she couldn't, she simply couldn't. This was a woman like any other. A woman who loved and lived for her child just as she did. Catherine could not be happy for her conversion since it had been brought out of desperation. She wished the woman the best and even said a prayer for her and the men Robb put to death.

After he sliced the second man's head she turned and could not help but shudder at the sight. Executions were common in England but she had never been present to any of them.

She looked at Robb Stark whose hands trembled and he let go of his sword. He was transformed in that moment into the little boy who would seek his mother when he was hurt or angry and his father was not there to console him.

She walked towards him and secured her arms around him. He didn't pull away. He needed to be comforted. The North, his family, everything he had worked hard for had been taken from him and he felt vulnerable. For the first time he realized how vulnerable he was. He was not king of the North, Robb Stark, the first of his men. He was just Robb Stark, orphaned son, husband to murdered wife, father to a murdered son. A son he never got the chance to meet.

* * *

Jane put her daughter in her bassinet. Edward entered the queen's chambers. They were deserted as usual, Jane had written to him asking him to come. 'It's urgent' she'd written. As her faithful brother he'd come and what he found made him wish with more hatred that Henry would have died here now and on the spot.

"Your Majesty." It took all of Edward's self control to keep him from hitting His Majesty. He stood next to Jane who sat up in her bed with her back against the soft pillows avoiding his gaze.

They'd gone to London early today and everyone shouted at her 'traitor' and a 'coward' and worse they called Henry 'murderer' and blamed his wife for his actions. As always -Jane thought- it has to be someone else who is to blame for the king's actions. The king could never be seen as guilty so it was easier to blame somebody else and who better than the queen of England who stepped over her predecessor's body to obtain the crown?

Henry blamed her for his failures and hit her when they got back and she refused his bed. Please my lord -she begged him closing her eyes to avoid his fury but after she fell to the ground, clutching her cheek she looked up and opened her eyes, staring at him defiantly. It was there that she saw the king as he was -a gullible, spoiled, selfish child in the body of an adult man.

She no longer feared him but she wasn't stupid. Speaking her mind was what led her predecessor in the scaffold. Jane was not going to the same mistake. So she took her punishment with grace and didn't complain.

Edward looked at the tiny child next to Jane. She was a sweet little babe -his sister claimed. But next to the former Princesses, Mary and Elizabeth, she was nothing. Just another useless girl.

And Henry had no more use for girls. When his older daughters were born he still bore hope that sons would follow but now it was different. The king was desperate, he needed a son and like with Anne Boleyn, he would go through any measures to get his goal.

Janey was only a Princess in name. His favorites were Mary and Elizabeth. They were the Tudor roses while his niece was (to their misfortune) the ugly one, the useless one. The one Henry would not care if she died today or was killed off in an attempt to kill her mother. She was -as the common said- a plain and ugly girl just like their mother.

Edward had never felt more hatred towards the common folk. They were his people and yet they treated Jane like she was the devil incarnate. Couldn't they see she had done the same thing her predecessor had done? No, they were too blinded by Henry's magnificence and Henry had conveniently let them put all the blame on Jane. Yet she never complained except when she was with him. She revealed all her secrets, what Henry did, what he said, what he forced her to bare. The gossip, the calumny, everything. He was her sole confidante and that gave Edward some comfort.

And then there was the memory of their time together. Edward had said no but he desperately wanted to say yes.

He wanted to take her, right here and now and claim her as his own. But he couldn't, he was ruled by duty and he had never let his heart get in the way of his duty. Yet, seeing Jane so vulnerable and her husband mocking her, he let his feelings take control over him.

When the king faced him however, he displayed no emotion.

To Henry he remained the cold prince, the uncaring, conniving, self centered man who would sell his own soul to the devil just for advancement.

"Viscount Beauchamp I was telling Her Majesty here that we have arranged another marriage for our daughter. Pitiful as it is, it would do since the child has no other endowments except her title as princess."

His words made Ned's blood boil. Just then sensing his uncle and mother's anger, the child began to wail and Jane took her and shushed her, she was about to nurse her but Henry, always alert, turned his eyes on her. "Queens do not do that, you want to end up like Anne Boleyn?" Henry asked in a threatening manner. Jane said nothing, for the first time she did not say she was sorry or beg to be forgiven, instead she gave him a quick smile and put the child back in her crib without giving her one last look before he called Lady Bryan to take her away.

Ned's eyes followed the lady Bryan. He did not care about the woman but knew the woman was related to Anne Boleyn, so to them, but she had been very loyal to the harlot and her daughter and he feared he would not be fond of little Janey, his niece.

Catching a glimpse of the child he noted she had Henry's dark brown hair with streaks of red. There was nothing of Janey in her. Edward regretted that. He thought seeing his sister's own flesh and blood he would love her and the resentment he had for Henry would vanish but it only made it worse. The child was like him, she even had his eyes.

He tore his eyes away from the sight and glared at Jane.

Was this her plan? Was this why she called him? To hate Henry even more, but seeing her eyes and the bruise on her cheek as she stared right back at him, he realized the note had not been her doing but Henry's.

"You agree lord Beauchamp? It's a marvelous plan is it not? And what better one! An ugly daughter to the future son of king Joffrey and his betrothed Margery Tyrell."

"But my lord, remember what king Joffrey's ambassador said that the wedding will not be for another month and we are not sure if they will have a son."

"Just because she doesn't have your blond tresses my love and your passiveness does not mean she is any less tan you." Henry shot back in an amiable tone but Edward could see the venom dripping from his words. Jane put two fingers to her lips, her smile still plastered on her face, to symbolize she would be as her motto, obedient.

"Besides, everyone has remarked on the lady's beauty. Why lord Beauchamp even a cold chap like you would be head over heels for a woman like her. They say she makes queen Cersei's court hers and her sour courtiers' hearts merry."

Edward did not doubt he did and that made her more dangerous. If Cersei Lannister had any wits in her, she would know how to act and dispose of that nymph.

"Yes, Your Majesty I have no doubt I would." He said with a short-lived grin.

The king strode past Edward and took him to the solar where he told him all about the betrothal. Signed and sealed, he said and then he left but not before clearing his wife's chambers of her servants and ladies in waiting and telling his brother in law to do something about his queen.

"We don't want more scandal, I've had enough of those lord Beauchamp and the queen listens to you, tell her she should be grateful and also tell her that just as easy as I raised her I can finish her."The same goes to you, his meaning was clear.

Edward bowed his head and went to meet Jane, unaware that one lady in waiting had remained behind. He locked the door behind him and crept in quietly in case she was asleep. But she was not.

"He told you to watch over me." Jane said quietly laughing in a way that made her unrecognizable to Edward. He sat next to her on the bed and rubbed her cheek. "Has he done this before?"

She didn't answer.

"Jane." His tone hardened.

She locked eyes with him, her eyes wide. He saw the truth in them. _I will kill him._ He thought but was quickly stopped by Jane, who saw his intentions through his eyes.

"Don't." She said pulling him closer. "Stay with me. The king won't be back until nightfall."

She glided her hand on his cheek and pulled their faces closer. "We have all the day to ourselves … stay." She commanded, her voice turned more desperate as he tried to pull away but she overpowered him.

He kissed her back, feeling her soft lips against his cold ones. She was kissing him with such force that he couldn't pull away. Go! His mind screamed but other part of him said _Stay!_ In his sister's voice.

He chose the latter.

He took her shoulders and lay her back against the soft mattress then pulled his lips away. He looked at her with passion and yearning in his eyes, this time it was not only her but him who desired her, who wanted to lay with her more than anything.

It was wrong, his soul would burn in hell for all eternity but he didn't care.

He stripped her naked and she did the same for him. He kissed her again, softly this time, pulling their bodies closer. She could feel the hairs of his member rubbing against her belly. It tickled her.

"I thought you were used to this." Edward said in a playful tone.

"No, not like this." She said smiling as he grinned at her. They stared at each other for the longest time. She was ready, he realized and he kissed her again to quiet the screams she was sure to give when he enter her, however there were none. Only moans, sighs, and sounds of ecstasy.

* * *

Jane Parker listened, horrified, as the Viscount and the queen consummated their unholy union. All the while saying "I love you." "I love you." And the queen's pleas "Edward don't leave me."

Edward quieted them with a powerful kiss and searing pain that came and eclipsed all doubt from her mind, a pain that turned into pure joy when he filled her and she became his in every sense of the word.

"Edward!" Was the only scream Jane heard followed by his last thrust.

Then silence. Pure silence.

Jane Parker stepped away from the door and walked out of her chambers, locking every door.

* * *

She was his. The sudden realization made Jane Seymour smile. She sat up, her elbows supported on the mattress, having a hard time to move her legs. Her body ached all over but her legs ached more. She could barely move them and Edward's member was still firmly locked inside her. "Ed … Edward." She said softly in his ear.

"Mmm…." Her brother struggled to open his eyes.

He had to get out of here. Jane had warned him that the king came to her daily at night and it was a full moon. Hunter's moon, Jane grimaced thinking back to the last full moon. Henry would not be long.

Jane gathered all her strength and pushed him off her but he unconsciously came back, locking his arms around her and muttering her name.

"Edward please …" she whispered.

"Where is Her Majesty!" Jane's eyes widened. She sobbed and her sobs woke Edward.

They looked at each other in fear but Edward always quick of mind looked at his surrounding and regained his composure. He gathered his clothes and opened a window, looking down, it was only the second floor and he was always a good climber. He had taught all of his siblings, including Jane.

"Edward don't." She pleaded as they heard the footstalls of the king becoming louder as he approached.

"Janey I have to, he will have both our heads if he finds what we've done." Truth be told, he was not ashamed. He loved this woman more than anything, he would have gladly die for her but Jane did not deserve that fate. There was so much potential in her, she could become queen regent if she gave the king a son after he died and then court would be hers –and his –a voice in his head said. And they would shape it the way they wanted to be.

They would rule together.

She saw the truth in his eyes and nodded but before he left she asked. "Edward." He turned. "I will see you again." It was not a question or matter of choice, they'd sworn an oath to each other when they lay together like man and wife. Jane would command him to her bed and she would gladly come again.

Edward nodded, he closed the window and began to climb down.

A second later Henry burst through her chambers, looking at her with an annoyed expression. She was not Catherine or Anne, the women he screamed their names every time he coupled. He was too drunk to notice she was naked, and his senses too dull to make out her horrified expression. It didn't matter in the past whether she was clothed or not, he simply took her and wasted himself on her and then when he finished he would get up and leave. To his whores, Jane had no doubt.

Well she didn't care if he whispered his dead loves in her ear this time. She was Jane Seymour, queen of England and she had just bedded her brother and she didn't care. It gave her the strength she needed to get through this night.

* * *

Lord Walder Frey was sleeping peacefully in his chambers. A messenger had come long after he decided to retire to his chambers. Normally the servants wouldn't have bothered to disturb their master from his sleep but they quickly noted the seal on the letter, noting that it was from the English King, Henry VIII.

None of them relished the idea of waking him up this early in the morning. When stirred their master had a nasty temper, and after the events that took place at the "Red wedding" no one wanted to be a the receiving end of their master's displeasure. So they decided to send the newest servant to their household to wake him.

Her name was Agatha, she was fourteen years old. The only thing that stood out about her was her fiery red hair. She course had protested, but had been outnumbered by those that she insisted she do her duty. And considering that she has only worked for the Frey's for only a month she no seniority as of yet to even protest.

Entering the dark chambers that belonged to her master, her entire body was literally shaking. She had tried knocking but got no response, all she could hear was snoring come in from inside. Taking a deep breath she pushed the door open and entered the dark chamber. She noted that embers still burned from the fire that had been going earlier. She looked at her sleeping lord who had not stirred from his sleep. His snoring seemed to grow louder.

Counting to ten, she tried to work up the courage to walk over to the bed close to him. She looked at him with fear and revulsion. This man was a monster in every since of the word. What Kind of man just sat back and watched people get slaughtered? She had heard from other servants that he wore a cruel smirk on his face through the violence and bloodshed.

She felt her stomach twist in disgust. She then cursed the other servants for putting her in this situation. They were cowards the whole lot of them.

"My Lord you need to get up," she said in a timid voice, she received no reply. So she said again, this time her voice was louder. All the response she got was him grunting and turning to his side.

Frustrated, she felt like screaming. What was it going to take to wake this man? Looking around, she noted that there was a pitcher on his nightstand. Picking it up, she looked inside of it and noted that there was still wine inside of it. She was surprised by this, the man drank like a sailor.

She chewed her bottom lip, should she do it? She contemplated. It only took her a second to decide, she then dumped the contents onto the sleeping man. This most definitely woke him up.

He woke up sputtering in surprise, his eyes filled with surprise, shock, and rage. He immediately began cursing loudly. His eyes then landed then landed on her. A shot of fear ran down her spine, she wished that she could follow her instincts and run out of the room. Before she could open her mouth and explain why she was here he grabbed her roughly by her hair, causing her to shriek in pain. It felt he was going to rip her scalp off her head.

He then dragged her on the bed. She was amazed by Lord Frey's strength and quickness, considering that he was nearly crippled by gout. Just then she felt something sharp pressed against her throat. She then realized that it was a dagger.

"Please don't hurt me," she pleaded, tears ran down her face.

Seeing fear in her eyes, he grinned cruelly. "You sick wench, you think that you can come in here and throw water on me and not be punished?"

"Please, you don't understand..."

"Shut up," he spat, his eyes blazing in deadly promise. She immediately grew quiet, hoping that if she was submissive to the man he would not hurt her to badly.

He then dug the knife deeper in her skin, he heard her whimpering in fear. He then dug the knife deeper into her pale throat. Just then blood appeared and dribbled down her neck.

As a young boy he always had a fascination with blood and violence, but since his daughter's wedding it had grown to a fever pitch. There was nothing like the feeling of watching your enemies be slaughtered in front of you.

Though he was not completely satisfied, he had failed in his main goal and that was killing Robb Stark.

He had been wanting the little bastard's head since he insulted him by turning down his daughter hand for marriage and marrying some common whore that he found along the road. He would not let this insult pass, he been made the laughing stock because of his refusal. And this is not the first time it happened. The Starks and the Tullys always thought they were better then him.

None of them saw fit come to any of his weddings, but then they want him to swear their allegiance to them. What arrogance. Watching the look of surprise and horror at what was going on had been euphoric.

He knew that people like this pathetic servant under him thought he was monster for what he had done to the Starks. What they didn't know was that he was saving them. The Stark boy or the young "Wolf" as he was called was unfit to lead. Stark was too trusting, he was under this notion that deep down all men were good. His father had been under the same illusion and look what happened to him! You would think that the Stark boy would have learned this lesson. But obviously he had not.

He knew that he would not be completely satisfied until he had Robb Stark's head brought to him on a sliver platter. He would have had it if it wasn't for that English bastard, Thomas Seymour. Who thought himself chivalrous for saving that wife of his along with the Stark boy at his own expense. He knew there was a reason why he hated the English. They were interfering bastards, the whole lot of them. And they brought trouble where they went.

Not only did he lose the Stark boy, but he now had the Lannister's breathing down his neck, and also the English King. His dealings with Henry made him hate the English more.

Henry was having a temper tantrum because he had lost a potential mistress of his. Though he led everyone to believe that Lady Seymour was dead, in all honesty he was not exactly sure. After all his men had yet to find her body. A woman heavy with child couldn't have gotten that far though.

But there were rumors that she had given birth to twins, rumors that Henry was all too willing to believe. He was already looking for wife number four. That Seymour wife of his better pray she give him a son or else he would get his wish.

But anyways, wasn't one woman as good as the next? He lost his wife, you don't see him complaining about it. But he had to laugh, despite his anger at losing a potential whore, Henry was all to willing to make an alliance with him. Being the sly dog that he was, and considering that he needed another wife, he proposed a marriage alliance between him and one of his daughters.

He heard that Henry had just re-legitimize them. So he was rest assured that should he get child in one of them that his heir could potentially be King of England, should something happened to Princess Jane or any son -if that Seymour whore of his did give him a son- he had by his Seymour wench.

He was now waiting for Henry's answer.

Looking at the servant once more, he wonder why she was here in the first place. He let her go, she looked visibly relieved. She then gingerly touched the wound on her neck, wincing in pain at its stinging.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he growled.

"My Lord you just got a letter from King Henry." she said in a shaky voice.

"Why the hell didn't you say anything?" he groused.

Maybe if you didn't have a dagger to me throat I would have," she thought sarcastically. But wisely kept her mouth shut.

She then took out the letter from her bosom and quickly gave it to him. He then ripped it open. He quickly scanned over it, she shivered noting the delighted look her master's face. She then watched as he walked over to his desk and write something down on a piece of parchment. He quickly sealed it.

He then looked over at her, she hesitantly walked over to him.

He grinned at her fright, " give this to me eldest, Walder, he'll know what to do." Before she could leave, he grabbed her and kissed her savagely. She fought against him, which seemed to make him more excited. He laughed and let go of her.

He would have enough entertainment for when Henry's oldest daughter came here.


	5. Chapter 5

**Some stuff I changed from a song of ice and fire like Walder Frey's grandson by his bastard son Walder Rivers, he is as smart as his father and ambitious as his grandfather. He is not mentioned a lot in the books and not a central figure but for this story I wanted to make him one. Also surprise guest for Mary fans.**** Inspiration from Tudors season three, game of thrones books and tv show, and Tudors by GJ Meyers, 6 wives of Henry VIII by Antonia Fraser and Mary Tudor and Jane Seymour by David Loades.**

* * *

"Jane."

"Hmm?" She turned over. She was lying on her back, her head turned to face him.

"We will be burned at the stake if we continue to do this."

"Let them burn us. I do not mind, there are times I do not even care anymore. When I lie with_ him_, all I see is Thomas' face. His face, my little brother ..." Tears strolled down her eyes. "...he used to stuff our shoes with sand remember?" She started laughing. "He said it would make us royal."

Ned bent his head down to kiss her lips again.

"He said you would be a Duke and he the lucky one married to the most beautiful woman in England. He was right." _So right my husband killed my brother to have her._

He read her thoughts. "He will never have me. Thomas' prediction is right, you are a queen and the king does not know what he has. When you have a son, he will grant you everything you wish."

"A prince." she smirked, a careless smirked as if she no longer cared for jewels and a life of luxury. All Jane ever wanted was for things to be pretty and fair like they were in the songs their parents told them at night. But she was a fool, a pretty golden fool. "When I was little I could have given everything to have a prince. I would have given my soul to god to be queen, now I am not so sure that I want to be queen or have a son."

"Shh" He put two fingers on her lips then brought his own to them. She could taste his tongue and his hands moved down to her swollen belly where their son kicked eagerly every time he felt another male presence, but tonight he was still. He was at peace. He sensed that it was his father, his true father who was in their presence. "He will make a great king, a far better one than Henry."

"Now you are teasing me. Don't lie. Can a son raised in this court ever be just?"

"No, the world isn't just but he will be cunning, smart, and wise just as his father." He said. His lips curved upwards in a smile. He took her hands and pressed them tightly as he kissed her again and again until she was out of breath then released them.

"Edward-" She said, her voice had a tinge of warning but he did not listen. He thrust and she bit her lower lip to avoid screaming but she felt him deep inside her, his tongue exploring every corner of her flesh until it touched on the thin layers of skin. She finally cried out "Edward!" And then she was silent as he pulled out.

He kissed her roughly, gripping her shoulders, then kissed every corner of her body, marking her as his own. He did this every time. Like a wolf, he had to mark his prey.

Jane Rochford stared wide eyed through the keyhole, shocked to the core. The king was known for his passion and his erratic tempers. Half of London had been in his bed and he'd been with almost every woman she knew. Ursula Misseldon was his current mistress, a lady skilled in herbs and with good looks. Exotic brown eyes, brown hair, just as the harlot. Some said that was why he bedded her. But Jane knew better. The king was curious, he went after every woman that proved to be the latest thing. And to have a woman like Ursula in his bed was good, after his injury nearly two years ago, it proved that he was still virile.

_And young._ Jane thought. The king wanted to prove to everyone that he was still the same young man who went after young noblewoman in his young days when he'd just been crowned king.

Thinking of the old days, Jane could not help but feel guilty.

Jane had testified against her husband and for what? Cromwell had given her nothing. No income, her dower rights were confiscated to the crown as all her properties. Her luck lay with queen Jane. And being the shrewd woman that she was she became fiercely loyal to her new mistress. Besides, she wasn't arrogant and made snide comments like her late predecessors. Even Catherine of Aragon, it was said, was prideful and could be extremely vindictive.

Jane Seymour was none of that. But she was beginning to see traces of her fury. The king had stupidly unlocked it when he railed at her for giving him a daughter instead of the song he longed for. If Jane Seymour could still be vindictive while holding a smile and seemingly favorable to everyone at court … God only knows …

Jane Seymour might yet prove to be the fiercest -and most dangerous- queen.

* * *

Jane woke up. Edward was there by her side. Anne Stanhope, unaware of her husband's dangerous liaison woke up in Sir Francis bed preaching him that Edward was a prude, an eunuch, nobody could get pleasure from him. But he was above all an intelligent and dangerous man, a man without scruples.

If only Anne Stanhope would know the kind of man her husband was she would know better than to thread with his enemies. She was loyal to him, in the sense of the word that he didn't betray his secrets and respected him, but she hated him because the one thing that she could not give him -love- he gave to Jane. And for the lack of that precious element, her womanly and treacherous heart turn to other men to spite him.

Jane kissed the top of his head. The king was riding tonight. Nobody would bother them. He had no interest in bedding his wife. And she was in confinement and most of her ladies were family, so they had nothing to fear.

"Anne used to kiss me there same as you."

"I always kissed you like this. You always pretended to be sick and disgusted of my kisses." She said chuckling when he grinned.

"Come here." He surrounded her waist and brought her closer to him. One of his hands traveled to her belly. His seed lay there. What would it be? A son? A daughter?

He knew it to be a son. Like the new sigil of his house he had created shortly after Jane had given birth, they had conceived at the hour of the wolf, at full moon. Inside her lay a wolf, a golden wolf that would take everything His Majesty held dear and when he was done consuming everything at its path, he would become king and he and Jane would be there to see their little son become the greatest monarch that ever lived in English history.

* * *

Mary cried as she was told she would leave as soon as possible for Twins. She did not note that on her way she ran into Edward Seymour's youngest and only surviving brother, Henry Seymour. "My lord."

"My lady, please just Sir, I am no lord." Yet -he meant and she read him well for she smirked. The Seymours were just like the Boleyns she thought and she thought right for he smiled charmingly at her undressing her with his eyes. She moved away.

Duke Philip arrived from the German duchies. It had been his (secret) fourth tour to England. Ever since the war of the five kings started, all the German duchies had pledged their allegiance to the Starks. The "Northern freedom fighters". Stark as well as some of the free cities from where their late queen came from, promised to liberate the German duchies from the yoke of the Holy Roman Empire.

Philip was known as the "warrior". He'd personally met with Stark and won many of his battles. He was a man who could fight and was not afraid to lead his men into battle. True, he did not ride in the battlefield until he was sure of victory, but his presence was enough to command loyalty.

What did the Lannisters have except gold? Soldiers were paid to fight, but the Northeners were a proud bunch, proud to be Northerners and eager to break free of the Southern inbred king, Joffrey Baratheon.

No trueborn king, born of incest from his mother and her twin brother, Ser Jaime Lannister, he had no claim whatsoever to the Iron Throne, yet his grandfather had all the gold so he remained in power.

Philip sighed. He had to do something to help Robb Stark. He was an honorable man himself but war demanded sacrifice and he knew that Robb Stark, as long as he lived, the Northern cause would remain. He was after all, still, the king of the North.

Mary was so angry to be undressed by every man she ran into, including that odious Sir Francis Bryan that she did not mind when she stepped on another courtier's foot. What was another courtier but another lecherous man like her father? And my future husband. At the thought of her husband, ninety year old something lecherous Frey who was said to be strong still and engaged in lewd acts, vile ran up her throat.

Did her father hate her this much? Was this what she got for wearing the badge of her mother -the pomegranate- when she came to greet Jane Seymour when she'd just become her father's consort? Was this what she got for being her daughter and not the boy she'd promised?

At this Mary began to cry and she cast her eyes down so the courtier would not see her tears but he did. He caught her arm and turned her. He wore a semi-tall hat, very different from the caps many courtiers wore. She did not recognize him until he tilted his head and she was made aware of his piercing emerald eyes.

"Your Grace."

"Lady Mary. I was told I had to wait but I couldn't wait I bring news to you, I must speak to you at once. It is important."

"It always is." Mary said and began pulling her arm when his hold tightened and brought her back to him. "You do not understand" he hissed in her ear. "You must hear me out, is there any place we can meet?"

She shook her head. She was not going to get into more trouble. This man had a known reputation with the ladies for being a gentle lover, a conqueror and like every conqueror he sought the biggest prize. _No doubt he thinks I will be it, and marrying me he will gain England, rebel against my cousin, free his people from the Empire's control and help that traitor Robb Stark._

Seeing the hatred in her eyes, he did not wait and took a cloth from his pocket and pushed it to her mouth. She immediately closed her eyes and her body became limp. He dragged her to his chambers.  
His servants were men he could trust, they would not tell on him as many of the English ones.

When she woke up as he expected she was furious and hurled herself at him, but he was stronger so it was easy to stop her.

"Listen to me lady Mary I will not use excessive force unless you make me. You must listen and try to understand, I am here to help. The king in the North is still alive and so is your Aunt by marriage, Catherine Parr."

"No, I don't believe it. Nobody could have-"

"They have and they want England. They need England. With me as your husband I can help you regain your birthright, your throne. You can make England as great as it once was in the time of your ancestors, the Plantagenets. Think about it! You will be England's first queen and as so you can make things the way you want them to be. Please!"

"The Emperor-"

He hissed in frustration. God, how stupid could she be? _No Philip, address this carefully. _His mind told him.

"The Emperor doesn't care about you. Your cousin cares only about an alliance against France. My spies heard him tell Granvelle, the man whom your friend Chapuys always writes. He has him fooled too. They both do. He is not going to help you."

"And Bess? What about her?" Mary asked. "If I am queen she will be my rival. I cannot live like that Your Grace, always doubting, always plotting, always paranoid. I can't."

"Yes you can. That is what plotting is, what the court is and always will be. Always plotting, always being on your guard. I know you can play the game as well as your mother, Your Highness." It was the first time he called her by her royal title.

He let go of her shoulders and got on his knees and made a pleading gesture with his hand. "If you have me now we can marry under my faith, both our faiths if that's what you want. With both faiths you will be invincible."

It sounded too tempting to Mary.

"Please." He said taking her hands, he brought one to kiss.

She felt feverish at his kiss. God what must I do? The answer came at once as she looked into her emerald eyes. "Alright I accept."

* * *

Philip smiled happier than ever before. The Princess and he began to make preparations. The queen was in confinement and likely she would birth another girl. With the poor luck Henry had, the throne would fall to Mary's hands. Now all he needed was to find two priests, one Catholic, one Protestant, to marry them. It would be a joint ceremony. Quick and some witnesses.

There were many at court that were very angry, both at the treatment of Mary and the former princess Elizabeth. Most of them felt more strongly about Mary. Even the Protestant faction was disgusted.

Luther himself in Germany wrote that this was an abomination selling a Christian princess (albeit not of the true faith) to a pagan Lord.

Of course not many listened to the German monk or the Swiss preacher Calvin. Many of these preachers were falling fast out of favor. Nobody wanted to be lectured after all by men who were just as fanatic as the old church leaders they preached against. The only reason Dukes and Counts supported him was because of the promise of riches and eternal life. The promise of eternal salvation since kings were after all holy and anointed and therefore rulers in their own household, not subjective to the rules of man. This made them half-divine if not an incarnation of god.

People in his own duchy worshipped the ground he walked on, not because he was Duke but because of his family name. It is all that matters. Family, not your personal glory but family. His mother had said. As a younger brother, he never knew his father. His older brother Otto told him about him, what little he could remember since he died when Otto was four. He was courageous and fair-skinned like Philip, emerald eyes, tall, and charming but he had yellow hair while Philip had raven hair.  
His brother got all of their father's features and if it wasn't for his hooked nose, he would've been the fairest of the two.

Philip drew his lips up into a smile. Tomorrow he would be married and like the songs of old, he would whisk Princess Mary away and take her to safety to Germany where she would be mistress of his castle and command everything he had.

He licked his lips, imagining what their first encounter would be like. Would she be ready? Would he? Would he please her in bed, would he hurt her? He hoped not. Until now he had never felt so strongly for any woman. But she was no mere woman, she was a Princess, the daughter of a great queen, and granddaughter of the greatest monarchs in Christendom.

_And tomorrow she will be mine._

* * *

As preparations were being made for their secret wedding, news of an unexpected arrival reached Henry's ears.

"Ser Aemon Rivers, son of Ser Walder Rivers, grandson of Lord Walder Frey, Lord of the Twins and Regent of the Riverlands."

"Yes, yes let him in." Thomas Cromwell cut the majordo's silk voice. He didn't understand why kings had need of these men. Their purpose was useless, yet, order must be maintained. It was one thing he and the Seymours agreed. Thinking back on their predecessors, a smile twisted on his lips. If the Boleyns had only been smarter and not so arrogant, mayhap they'd still be here.

"Ser Aemon." Henry said, making his way down from the daïs. Since bedding Ursula, he felt renewed vigor. She was an elegant woman, with fine taste and absolutely exotic.

_If only I had married her and not that plain milksop cow. _He didn't understand what he'd ever seen in Jane. Perhaps he had been desperate to get rid of the witch. Yes, that had to be it.

"Ah, Ser Aemon, my man you are finally here. But where is your father? Is he not well?" Henry's brow creased in true concern.

It was well known that the eldest of Walder Frey's sons, his bastard Ser Walder Rivers, was (after his father) the brains in the family as well as the strength. A good commander and a great thinker. Henry would hate for him to die.

Fortunately his worries were put to rest.

Aemon shook his dark head. "No, Your Majesty." Henry's ministers breathed in relief, including Edward Seymour Viscount Beauchamp whose grin Aemon didn't miss. Like his father he was very observant. "He is well and thanks to your god and my gods he enjoys the best of health. May they and He bless you as well."

"Your gesture is well appreciated Ser Aemon yet here in England we are god fearing people, we believe only in one god and one god only. I hope your grandfather appreciates that."

"He does Your Majesty and that is why he agrees to all your conditions. The lady Mary will have a Christian marriage. I shall be acting as the groom seeing as my lord grandfather cannot be present. He as you know, has many things to attend to."

Henry would be mad at the youth's last exclamation but he wasn't. His dreams to get rid of the last impediment of succession for his future son and heir, would be realized. He loved his pearl … once. But that had been until he realized that Catherine had lied to him and instead of being his wife, he had engaged in an incestuous relation with his sister-in-law. Mary, his darling pearl, was an abomination. He had to get rid of her. For god and his future son with Jane, he had to get rid of her.

* * *

Her ladies, Susan, her cousins Frances and Eleanor were fastening her corset. Her other servants put on her gown and fastened the laces on her back. Today she would be a wife. _At last._

Her hair was let loose, it cascaded all the way to her back like ringlets of fire. A single diadem decorated her auburn hair.

She did not notice her cousins Frances and Eleanor glance at each other in a conspiratorial fashion. If she did, she did not let that worry her. While they might not agree, they were here to obey her. Her father had after all placed them in her service and they were kin. She was named after their mother, her late Aunt Princess Mary Rose Tudor, Queen Dowager of France and Duchess of Suffolk. She was the closest link they had with her.

"On we go ladies." Mary said linking her arm around her best friend Susan and another with her cousin Frances.

Lady Frances Grey nee Brandon wished she could tell her cousin what she heard, but that would be treason. Her husband had explicitly told her to report everything she watched and at the first instance of betrayal go to the king or Cromwell.

Fighting her guilt, Frances mustered a smile that must have looked fake but her cousin was too preoccupied thinking of her fairy tale wedding to notice.

_Aye a fairy tale wedding it will be. _Thought Frances grimly. She hated herself for spying on her cousin, the only friend she ever had besides her sister Eleanor, but her actions left her no choice. Mary would destroy the country with that reckless Duke of hers. They would plunge them into a war that would end up destroying everything their grandfather Henry Tudor and their great-grandmother built.

As Frances was pondering and rethinking her guilt, trying to convince herself she had done her cousin and country good, Mary and Susan were chatting idly, making their way to the chapel at Westminster where strangely it was crowded._ Oh maybe Philip invited too many servants. The more the merrier._

Perhaps there would also be many of the old nobles there as well to support her.

As Mary and her cousin entered the chapel they were surprised to find the chapel packed and not with the nobles she had expected. Instead these were the men and women who had turned their backs on her mother and on her when they supported her father and the concubine. They all looked at her, some with amusement, others with glee, and some with pity.

She felt Frances leave her and take her seat next to her husband. She mouthed a small "I am sorry cousin."

Mary looked to Eleanor, Susan and her other ladies. They were all, except Susan, glancing at her with pity. Eleanor left her side as well and sat next to her sister and her brother-in-law Henry Grey.

"Susan." Mary started but the words were lost on her mouth. Her father then came and relieved Susan from her post and told her to sit. His tone left no room for conversation and looking at her friend one last time, she went away and did as the king told her.

The king linked his arm around her. "What is this?" Mary asked, dreading the answer.

"Your wedding or do you think I did not know that you were planning to marry that bastard Philip?"

At the mention of Philip, her eyes widened with fear. Her expression betrayed her and she cursed herself for not having self-control.

"Smile this is your wedding day. It is bad luck for a bride to look so grim and ungrateful on her wedding day especially when it is my purse that is paying all of this. Be grateful that I agreed to marry you. All of my councilors said you were too dangerous married, but Lord Walder Frey is a man who still has many sons and can make you more and even if he doesn't, he will leave you a rich widow and then I can marry you to some other Westerosi lord."

"W-w-w-where is Philip?"

Henry smirked. He tightened his hold on her even more. She flinched. "Your darling Philip escaped before I could get him. He left you to rot." He said with an icy tone and glare when he turned to look at her.

Her knees nearly gave up, she felt she was about to lose consciousness. _No, no, no, no, no. Philip never would have!_

_He left you to rot! _

_No!_

But it was true.

_You fool, you stupid fool. You fell once again for a charming face. A handsome rogue and look what he did!_

He led down the aisle and she saw one of Walder Frey's bastard grandsons standing in his stead. The man in charge of the ceremony was none other than Archbishop Cranmer whose sorrowful face only made her angrier.

She did not need his pity! She did not need anyone's pity for that matter. She was the daughter of Catherine of Aragon and she could withstand anything.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Ser Aemon gave her a small kiss on the cheek to symbolize the union between his grandfather and the former princess. With the ceremony done, acting as his grandfather, he escorted the bride back to Greenwich where there was a great feast waiting for them.


	6. Chapter 6

Anne noted something was different today. Edward didn't act like he cared, in past days he would look sorrowful, feign interest, even show that he cared. But today he didn't. What had happened?  
She intended to find out. Just then a cry came from the queen's chambers. The king and everyone at the feast stood up at once. He asked the queen's chamberlain who came running unannounced into the Hall that the queen had given birth.

"You are certain?" The young man nodded. The king grabbed his collar and swung him against the wall, everyone including the former princess' acting groom.

Aemon had never seen a man so angry. Even his grandfather would not go to such extremes and he was known for his temper.

"Why wasn't I informed?"

"You said-"

"I know bloody well what I said! How long has she been in labor?" Henry roared. He would've strangled this fool right now if it weren't for his guests.

"Fourteen hours."

Everyone gasped, including the two former princesses.

"You mean she's labored for half a day and nobody told me? Cromwell" he turned to his master secretary. "You are the master of whisperers. Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded.

"The queen sent no messenger, no one knew Your Majesty." Cromwell said, maintaining the neutrality in his voice.

Why hadn't he been informed? He was master secretary, he was supposed to know everything! More importantly, why so much secrecy around the possible prince's birth?_ If it is a prince. _He was already looking for potential wife number four. There were many candidates. Henry wanted only one, his late brother in law's wife, the (still) lost Catherine Seymour. He didn't understand why Henry was insisting on pursuing a lost cause. Lady Sudeley was lost forever, she was likely dead or soon to be taking into account the price on her companion, the fugitive king of the North's head.

Henry was so angry he didn't listen to Cromwell or the queen's kin, Viscount Rochford and her youngest surviving brother, Sir Henry Seymour when they pleaded with him.

Mary turned her head to Bess. She was sitting next to her. She had spent all day congratulating her for her wedding. _Your mother would be so proud. One day I will be as beautiful as you. _And little Janey. Just a year old. She was clapping her hands every time she saw her. Mary's presence calmed her more than her nursemaid and Bess.

_What will that girl do once I am gone? The queen barely sees her. And with good reason. Who would want to see a girl who is the living, talking, walking reminder of her failure to give the king a son?_

Mary hoped for the child's sake that the queen's second child would be a boy. Nothing would be better. She would have a quiet life. She and Bess would never have to worry about ascending to the throne with a brother in the cradle. As Mary closed her eyes, her lips moved saying a prayer for her stepmother.

Aemon tilted his head and raised his eyebrows in amusement. He expected the daughter of the legendary Catherine of Aragon to be shrewder. He was shocked when she opened her eyes and looked at him coldly. He smiled back showing her the same coldness. P_erhaps my grandfather has found his match, or perhaps she is just stupid_. Either way her grandfather would bring her to heel.

In her chambers Jane gave another scream. The second child slipped from her body. She was too tired to speak, she could barely breath yet she found the strength to ask "What is it?"

The midwife smiled at her. "Another boy, Your Majesty."

Jane laughed. The midwife smiled warmly at her mistress, feeling the same joy she did. England had at last her longed for prince of Wales and a Duke of York. She had done what her predecessors couldn't. She had secured the Tudor dynasty.

"Give them to me." She commanded after they cleaned them. Her linens were changed for clean ones and her nightgown was changed as well. She was clad with furs and pelts, made to look out like an empress for when Henry came he would be proud at her.

He was. Henry was ecstatic. He took his firstborn from Jane's hands and cried. "My son!"

I have a son. Good Lord he had never felt so happy. He stared down into his eyes. They were dark blue like everyone in Jane's family, his wisps of hair were golden and his skin was fair. He was just like his mother but his mouth, the firmness in his mouth when he stared right into Henry's eyes, that look, that seriousness, that was him. "My sweet boy." He said, laughing and crying all at once.

He kissed the boy's forehead causing him to chuckle, a discreet chuckle not wild and loud like his useless sister Janey. He gave him back to his mother then took the other one from the midwife's hands standing next to his wife. He was just like his brother, with the minor exception his eyes were a lighter blue. He didn't like the way this child looked at him, he looked menacingly at Henry, his eyes piercing his. He turned away when his father tried to kiss him and wailed frantically when he tried to calm him down.

Deciding this was going nowhere he gave the child back to the midwife and turned his attention to the eldest. His true prize. The prince of Wales and future king of England.

* * *

Edward was furious that Jane hadn't told him but when the midwives told him and Cromwell that the queen had labored so hard that at one point they thought she would die, his anger vanished.

It was so typical of his sister to put duty above everything. She didn't want to trouble the king for fear it would interrupt the proxy ceremony between Lady Mary and Ser Aemon Rivers.

Not that she cared if she did. She would rather her stepdaughter married someone of her choosing, someone she would be happy with. A Portuguese or Spanish royal.

But Henry had made it clear that she didn't want her daughter having so much power so he chose Lord Walder Frey. Jane never forgot how much she pleaded with him not to do this. It would destroy her daughter's heart but he didn't listen. He never listened. Ever since she gave him Janey, he did nothing but scream and take his anger out on her.

But that was over now. She'd given him what he wanted. A son and a spare to keep his dynasty safe.

She watched as Henry took her son and cradled him in his arms. _My son._ Realization hit her hard as she listened to her son's soft mewing as his father kissed his forehead and whispered tender words in his ear.

She had not just given the king what he needed, she had also given herself what she craved the most in this world. Something to call her own. She told the midwife to hand her youngest son. She did so and at once the babe opened his eyes sensing his mother's presence. He snuggled close to her breasts as she brought him closer.

Henry was too entranced by his firstborn to notice Jane lower the front of her nightgown so that her babe would suckle from her nipple. It hurt at first but then it felt soothing.

* * *

The physician and head midwife told Edward he couldn't enter. One look from him and it was enough to scare them. Cromwell was surprised, he had seen Edward Seymour at his worst but this was nothing like it.

Edward could barely contain his excitement when he saw the babe at Jane's breast.

Sons. Jane had given birth to sons. It was like staring at a mirror. Jane nursing his infant self. The soft chuckles from the tiny bundle the king was carrying broke Edward's concentration and made him turn to His Majesty.

"Your Majesty." He and Cromwell curtsied before the king. Henry was cradling **his **son and he didn't know it. He didn't know that his wife had cuckolded him with his brother of all people.  
Edward could almost laugh at the irony of it. He had nearly burned one innocent woman at the stake because she hadn't given him what he wanted, a son. And made the other suffer the worst of all deaths -a slow and painful one in a dreary castle because she proved herself better than him and won the people's loyalty while he won their scorn, and stood her ground proclaiming herself queen to the end.

Yet his joy died down as Henry kissed **his **son's forehead and the baby giggled. His eyes dancing with joy as he recognized the big jolly fellow who held him as his true father not the sober man approaching.

* * *

Philip arrived to Robb Stark's camp. They had found the brotherhood of the lost banners (A fanciful name he considered for runaway thieves worshipers of the red god) while they made their way North.

Not having any choice, they joined them. Arya had been mad. She didn't trust them. That didn't come as a surprise to anyone. The youngest wolf of Winterfell didn't trust anyone.

Robb greeted him when he saw him dismount from his black stallion. "You still ride that beast?" Robb asked smiling as the two brothers at arms embraced each other.

"And you are still a fool chasing after lost causes I see."

"I haven't come here to listen to you jest my friend. Is she here?"

Philip sighed. Robb Stark's face fell. "What happened?" He asked.

"I left her. I wanted to bring her into my arms. I wanted to rescue her but the king's men … they somehow knew. I couldn't get to her in time."

"You cowered, you ran." Robb said and Philip said nothing but nodded.

"You lost the only thing of value to the lord of the light." A voice came from behind.

They turned to see the red priestess, lady Melisandre. She approached Philip and touched his cheek. "Not a king's son, you had but one simple task, bring the girl here."

"I did what I could" Philip began but the red priestess interrupted. "You failed you mean." She snapped. "That girl was worth more than all the blood of kings combined. Fire for fire."

"Speak clearly fire priestess. We don't follow your laws here. We worshipped the old gods not your ruthless demon."

"If what you believe that your gods roam the earth and live in every element then is it not possible that they live in my god?" She posed and Robb's eyes hardened. "Perhaps they do not and they are only weak manifestations of R'hollor." She turned back to face Philip. "Who else did you speak to?"

"No one. I came under a false name, only she knew who I was." Philip said. "I told her to tell a few of her ladies, I met with them, they were people she -we could trust." He quickly rephrased. Like Robb and most of their company he didn't like being alone with this woman.

"Here you are, you have failed to bring the king's eldest daughter. She had blood of kings through both parents. As her father's eldest heir, she could have proved vital to defeating the false king Joffrey."

"I did the best I could. I could not break her, after the king found my deception it was too late. I wanted to say something but I did not have time. I wrote her a letter asking her forgiveness, telling her to meet but she never came. I assumed she didn't want to come, later I learned that my servant had been killed and the letter never got to her."

You failed you mean. I have never seen a man more dumbstruck by love. Robb Stark should have trusted someone else."

"I did what I could!" Philip insisted. "I could do nothing else."

The red priestess gave him a mocking grin then turned to Robb Stark. "You betrayed your king Stannis."

"Stannis is no king of mine. He didn't accept my terms."

"You mean he didn't accept your term to surrender a part of his kingdom. You wanted the rightful king to beg for something that is his by right of the one true god."

"Gods make kings not a fire priestesses and meddling women." Robb snarled.

Melisandre frowned, she took a step forward. Robb pretended not to be afraid but Melisandre could smell the stench of fear in him as her eyes turned a dark shade of red and the jewel at her necklace shined brightly. "Careful boy, the lord of light has shown you mercy. His chosen is willing to forgive your transgression if you join him now. Pledge your fealty and he will give you back Winterfell."

Robb snorted. "Can the lord of light make Roose Bolton's bastard disappear from the face of the earth, can he kill every Lannister, including the imp who forced my sister into marriage?" He asked skeptically.

She gave a deadly smile and said "Yes." Her eyes shifted to the woman coming from Robb's tent. The woman she'd seen from her visions when she looked into the flames to see Stark's future. She shifted her eyes back to Robb. "For your new family's sake lord Stark, I hope you do the right thing this time."

Robb knitted his eyebrows looking questioningly at the lady Melisandre but she offered no answer. She walked away going to where Thoros of Myr and Beric Dondarion were.

Catherine asked Robb who was she. Robb shook his head and told her "No one." but Catherine did not believe him. Something about that woman when she arrived to camp, she didn't know what but, it made her nervous.

Robb gestured to Philip who made a gallant bow to Lady Sudeley. "Lady Stark now." Catherine corrected.

Philip raised his eyebrows and looked at his friend. "Is this-" Robb nodded quickly. Philip slapped his shoulder. "You sly devil Robb, I knew you still had it in you." He chuckled then realized he was no longer standing before lady Sudeley but the new queen of the North. He gave a better curtsy. "Your Grace."

"Stand up my lord. No one knows yet." Queen Catherine said. "We intend to keep it that way."

"Lord Varys still has many spies and gods only knows if he doesn't have spies in the European courts." Robb supplied. "Imagine the day that chivalry died in favor of new men and schemers and plotters."

Philip sighed. Robb and his dreams. He was like a king straight out of the songs. Someone so idealistic, so honorable, that at times it seemed impossible to believe that he was real. "If Varys has little birds in the courts of Europe the better for us. If one thing queen Catherine and I can tell you is that Europe is very different. There are many self made men. Many Varys and even if Varys outsmarts them all, there are many other courts in the world more ruthless than him. By wanting to be master of the world he is only plotting his downfall."

"Don't be so sure, the man is known to be deceptive."

"So do we my friend, so do we." Philip said and looked to the Northern queen for support. She smiled, nodding at her husband.

* * *

Jane didn't want Mary to leave just yet. Not before saying goodbye to her_ brothers._

Mary smiled when the queen presented them to her. She had been chosen to be Janey's godmother but since these were boys the king decided to chose someone more s_pecial._

"They are beautiful, Your Majesty." Mary said cradling the oldest one who was the more Tudor of the two. He cried every time she turned her attention to his sibling. Aye, a true son of Henry VIII. She gave him back to her stepmother.

"I wish them all the best in the world." Mary said solemnly.

Jane smiled sympathetically at the younger woman. She placed her oldest son Thomas (named after her lost brother) in the bassinet next to his brother Edward William.

She placed a hand on the princess shoulder and another in her chin and slowly turned her head towards her. "I know what you are going through and if it was for me you wouldn't be marrying that man."

She pressed both lips together. There was so much Mary wanted to tell the queen.

"Why is he doing this? He has his prince of Wales and Duke of York, he doesn't have to fear my claim anymore. Everyone recognizes I am a bastard now, even if they don't it's useless. He has two legitimate sons, nobody would risk civil war for a girl like me."

"On that you are wrong. There are many who feel that until I am crowned, you are still the king's legitimate heir. Why, if something were to happen-"

Mary stopped her. She shook her head vigorously. "Don't say that Your Majesty. God forbid anything happens." _I would rather it happens to me. It would be an act of mercy if it did. _She prayed day and night that lightning would strike her down or something happened on the road that took her life or that of her husband's. She knew it was wrong but god forgive her, she preferred death over a union with Lord Walder Frey.

Jane read her thoughts and embraced her daughter in law. "It's never easy being a woman, especially a royal. My daughter will one day run the same fate as you do but she will do it regardless of my feelings because that is the fate all women must face."

"But I don't want to. It's not my destiny. I wanted to be queen or at least be married to a Duke or a prince somewhere."

_Poor child. If you only knew how unfair life is. _"We don't always get what we want in life but when we do we must be happy. God has a plan for all of us, perhaps Lord Walder Frey is part of his plan."

"But what could god want me married to a man like him?" Mary demanded sobbing in the queen's arms.

"You never know. The Lord works in mysterious ways. Perhaps He will shine His light on you." She stroked her stepdaughter's cheek. "You will be Lady of the Twins, and now that he has Riverlands in the palm of his hand he will be one of the most powerful men in Westeros."

Mary shook her head and said sadly, "That will not be enough. I want ..."

"What do you want?"

"Happiness. Is that too much to ask of god?"

Jane smiled sadly at her eldest stepdaughter. "Look at me and listen to me very carefully. I am going to give you the advice my mother told me on the day of my betrothal."

"Your mother? But I thought she died..." Her voice trailed off then she closed her eyes and shook her head chuckling. "Pardon me Your Majesty, I had the events confused."

"There is no need for apologies Lady Mary. Betrothals are made all the time and broken whenever the king or our lord fathers willed it so, I am sure you know."

Mary nodded. Her father had broken many of her betrothals with royal princes for fear of becoming threat and taking arms against him. Now she wished she had or that her lady mother had had the common sense to have done so. It would have spared her many years of misery. And more to come -her mind told her, now that she was married to Walder Frey.

"I was barely a child, I've never met the Dormers or their eldest son but when they brought him to my house I was charmed by him. He was so small, weak and frail. My father wanted to break the betrothal at once but my mother convinced him not to. Dormers had many lands that would further our position in court and while our father considered us unimportant my mother did not. She intended we had the best. Before your father came and broke the betrothal, while my mother still lived she gave me the wisest advice a woman can give to her child. Since you are my daughter by marriage and I care for you I will tell you this 'A woman is nothing without her wits and her fortune. You may never love your husband but you will love his children. They will be your greatest treasure, and if you can give your husband a son you will be unstoppable.'" She withdrew her hand and stepped away from Lady Frey. The guards were coming to get her. It was time. "Give him a son, he will be your greatest treasure."

Mary said nothing. They escorted her to the carriage where her step-grandson waited for her.

Jane watched them depart from the window of her children's nursery. When they were out of sight she returned her attention to her eldest son. He was Henry's boy. Henry had made him his son, claimed for his own but nobody could deny that he was her son.

She sensed Edward's presence and she turned and smiled at him. "Your son." She mouthed.

"He doesn't see many men except Henry. He is very paranoid. He makes Lady Bryan and every servant clean everything for him. They wash him daily, poor thing." Jane smiled as he giggled at her. "He will catch a cold."

She handed him to Edward.

It was like looking in a mirror. Their mother used to have miniature portraits of them when they were babies. She always believed that being a Wentworth set her above everyone else, because she told them that it was through her they descended from Edward III and every royal house in Europe. She loved drilling the information into their heads, especially her three eldest, Elizabeth, Edward, and Jane because they looked the most like her.

The baby wiggled in his grasp. Edward tried to calm him down but like his namesake, prince Thomas would not be calmed by simple gestures. He had to have his mother sing to him.

"The name suits him."

Jane smiled sympathetically. "He will come around. He knows no other father but Henry, but when he grows you and I can tell him the truth."

Edward sighed. Jane still held many illusions. "Janey you know we can't. They can never know." He went to their youngest son, prince Edward Henry, the Duke of York. He smiled when he saw familiar eyes looking down on him.

"I always pictured that I would be wearing the crown and riding behind the king with my arms wrapped around his waist."

**Black beard, tall, handsome. **He was every woman's dream but he was hers by oath. _What a fool, what a fool you are_. Her mind screamed.

"The king has decided to crown me, he says it will be the greatest coronation in centuries. My dreams have come true." She said, adding the last part bitterly.

He locked the doors then went to her and wrapped his arms around her. "Our dreams have come true. You will be queen, your sons will be kings and princes and your daughter will be queen of some far away kingdom. You will be remembered as Henry's most honored queen, his true wife and when our bones have turned to dust everyone will remember our names, Jane, Edward, the two Seymours who triumphed." He turned her face to him and kissed her.

A time consuming passion that built on them ever since she'd been churched. His passion for her had ached since then. He yearned to have her again.

Not being known for hesitating, he took what he came for and pushed her against the window seat. The curtains were drawn so nobody would see, he lifted her skirts, pushed down her stocking, and she unlacing his breeches, he thrust into her.

* * *

Something didn't feel right with Philip. He knew the red woman was not someone they should defy. Robb's sister was reckless however and openly defied her but instead of cursing her as she always did her enemies, the red priestess gave a prediction that she would be her enemies' death and that their paths would soon cross.

Startled by this Philip went to the red woman before she took Arya's companion Gendry Waters away.

"What is it that you wish Duke Philip?"

"You can see the future. Tell me, what is in store for me and Mary? Will we see each other again?"

"You do love her then. I feared it was so. When Martin Luther was given the mission by the high priest of R'hollor to convert all the heathens in Europe to the one true faith, he meant our god not the Christ ninny you Europeans worship. I've seen your kingdoms' future in the flames and I've seen your beloved's as well."

"I do not need you to speak in riddles. I need you to tell me about the Lady Mary?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Will she live? Will she come to reclaim her birthright?"

Melisandre smiled coldly at him. "She will live as will the four usurpers."

"Usurpers?"

She said nothing. She gave him a cold smile and left him right where he was standing, Stannis' guards taking the Waters boy with them.

* * *

Janey was learning to speak very quickly. When her nursemaid brought her to Lady Bryan who in turn gave her to the newly crowned queen, Jane Seymour; Jane barely had time for her silliness.

"But Madame she is your child."

Jane didn't listen to her. She told her to take the girl away. Her eyes were set on her two boys. They were silent, gazing up in admiration at her. Only one, her youngest, had her father's eyes.

Bess Tudor watched from afar as the queen sang and watched her boys with admiration.

"Lady Elizabeth what are you doing here?" Lady Bryan asked carrying a wailing princess Jainey on her arms. "You should be studying girl, the king wants to study high Valyrian."

"Why? It's the tongue of savages and heathens."

"It is the tongue of a dynasty that has ruled Westeros and every land on Earth before Christianity for thousands of years, you should learn it."

Bess sighed. She nodded, she didn't want to argue with lady Bryan.

She asked if she could take princess Janey with her to the school room.

"Are you mad child? The king will be angry at you."

"You can be there with us. I promise I won't drop her." Bess said.

Lady Bryan would have said no if it wasn't for Janey's constant wailing. She gave the child to Bess and saw that the princess was at once calmed down by her older sister's presence.

Bess loved Janey. She never got to be a big sister around her other siblings. The twins were too small and Mary was too big and probably lost forever now that she was on her way to the Twins. Janey in contrast, she could keep and teach her everything that big sisters were supposed to teach their little sisters.

She petted her strawberry blond hair that had been turning redder every month. Something the queen did not seem to like since it reminded her of their father. Bess was too young to understand the queen's emotional turmoil, if she did she would not be so quick to judge and call her stepmother foolish for preferring twin boys who looked insipid as her over a beautiful red haired Tudor goddess like her sister Janey.

She sat her on her lap and began to read to her aloud from her book. "Aegon Targaryen in the year of the first men took the Iron throne with his sisters, Rhaenys and Vyserya ..." Janey listened attentively to Bess, each time clapping when her sister smiled.

She was like a little monkey imitating everything she saw and she clung to Bess like she was her mother.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks to all your reviews.**

* * *

"Damn him, damn him to hellfire everlasting." Mary swore under her breath thinking of her father and the man who swore to rescue her as she was shown inside the twins, Aemon always by her side giving her a brief history of the castle and his history all the way to the age of what Westeros people called 'the first men'.

"It has been many centuries since this castle has been taken. 600 years my family has stood here and for 600 years nobody has taken this castle."

"What about before?" Mary said, her voice crisp.

Aemon shrugged. "It's not something my grandfather likes to speak of. The Targaryens took all our lands since then and gave them to the Tullys."

She saw a scowl at the mention of the Tullys. "But that time is over, thanks to our new king, the Freys can enjoy what always should have been ours." No one in their family worked harder than they, were his words' clear meaning.

"You mean your grandfather's family." Aemon turned to look at her sharply. She rephrased. "What I mean is your baseborn status does not allow you to reclaim what is your grandfather's."

"You are wrong my lady, unlike in England here in Westeros we can be religitimized by an act of the small council –your equivalent to parliament." He said.

She remained silent during the rest of the tour until they reached the Hall where she was presented to all the members of her new family.

"My son and heir and my grandson's father, my eldest bastard and the reason I bemoan the day the gods cursed with me a smart bastard instead of a smart heir." Walder Frey, her husband said.

Mary gave his eldest son a sympathetic smile but he only scowled at her.

Five minutes and I have already made enemies of the whole lot. She curtsied to each male member and tirelessly kissed each of her daughters in law's cheeks and daughters and granddaughters as well.  
They were all very plain except one, a red haired, solemn faced girl with sparkling blue eyes whom she guessed was Lord Edmure Tully's bride, Roslin Frey. She was heavily pregnant and that only made the situation worse when she was brought before her to curtsy to her new stepmother.

Mary smiled and bid her to rise. She was the only in the room who showed true kindness. She gave Mary a gentle welcome and whispered in her ear "We can go riding tomorrow, there are many soft meadows where you can hunt."

Mary's smile turned wider at this.

Walder Frey waved his hand dismissively at them, telling everyone to go back to their chambers. "So you are the king's bastard. You are far more beautiful than your portrait." He said caressing her cheeks then he roughly added "Of course all incestuous whores."

"I beg your pardon?" She demanded.

"You may not. You heard me. Your mother was a whore, everyone in Christendom knows this. Robert Baratheon was right in telling your lord father he was a fool for marrying his brother's wife. I guess all royals these days love to fuck their sisters."

"I will not stand here and be slighted-"

"You will because you are my wife and the king cares very little for you and gave me permission to do as I please with you. As if I will" He snorted "You will learn soon enough how a lady of the house Frey behaves to her master." He said then grabbed her arm and took her to his bedchamber where he threw her on the bed.

She was about to lash out on him when she noticed his grandson, Aemon Rivers, was also there in a simple chemise.

"What is he doing there? What is this?"

"Your consummation or do you think your father will leave me along until I get a son from you? Look at me my dear I am old but Aemon here, he tells me that you're beautiful, he's done nothing but praise you and he's my grandson so if I can't get a son on you, he will."

"No, I will not be subjected to this humiliation, I am a daughter of the house of Tudor and Aragon, I will not be treated like some common whore!" She cried running to the door but lord Walder Frey blocked her exit. She was faster and stronger than she had anticipated. He threw her back on the bed and undressed himself and did the same for her.

"You will do exactly as I say. I already got rid of one wife I can get rid of another."

Mary gritted her teeth. She clenched her fists. Her eyes scanned the room looking for anything she could use to defend herself but there were none. Walder Frey had prepared for this moment. He knew the princess the moment she walked through his doors would try to kill him. She was Catherine of Aragon's daughter after all, a militant and obstinate queen and like her mother would not hesitate to do what she thought was right to get what she wanted.

He slapped her when she tried to get away. So he had a fighter on his hands? Good, this would prove entertaining. He told his grandson to bind her arms to the bedpost.

Mary kicked and screamed and spit at him but it proved useless when he and his grandson had his way with her.

She cried the following morning. When her maids came to bring her breakfast she threw the food at them and told them to leave her alone but they wouldn't. They were under strict orders to keep watch on her day and night when their master wasn't present. And they weren't afraid to use excessive force against her if need be. After all, she was just a discarded princess, the king's bastard daughter and lord Walder's tenth wife. He already had many sons by others, whether he conceived through her or not it wouldn't matter, her sons and daughters would be far from succeeding and likely to be murdered in their sleep by their older jealous brothers.

Mary sobbed and brought her knees to her naked chest and hid her head. What would her mother say if she saw her now? She would be ashamed that her father had sunk this low and sold her into slavery to be Walder Frey's wife and his grandson's sex toy.

She remembered the prayer she said with her mother, the names she told her to whisper every time she felt sad. God, Mary Magdalene, Esther, Deborah, the Virgin Mary, and Isabel of Castile. They were her heroes and as long as she said these names, her mother said, they would always be with her and she could borrow strength from them. But she felt no strength now as she said the names, only frustration.

Suddenly she began to whisper new names and as the head of the maids, a large woman with strong arms dragged her from the bed and forced her to dress, she added another name to her list.

She repeated these names again when she attended breakfast with all of her husband's favorite sons and daughters. _Walder Frey, Henry Tudor, Aemon Rivers, big Walder, little Walder, Frances Grey, Eleanor Brandon, mistress Martha_ –and last but not least –_Philip Wittelsbach._

* * *

Jane received a letter from King's landing congratulating her for the millionth time on the birth of her sons. She threw it to the fire and told her secretary to write a reply to queen Cersei and tell her she thanked her for all her support and to remind her of the betrothal between prince Tommen and the lady Elizabeth.

"But what about Your Highness, Your Majesty, the princess Jane? His Majesty said that he was arranging a marriage for her with the prince Tommen."

"Prince Tommen is only a few years older than my stepdaughter Elizabeth and many years older than our princess Jane, it would be better if the king marries her to someone else." Jane said bouncing her baby boy on her leg. He giggled as she took off her snood and her blond curls came cascading past her shoulders. His younger brother was just as mesmerized at his mother's beauty. He laughed harder and clapped his hands together asking for another spectacle.

Jane brought him closer and gave him a kiss then did the same for his younger brother, Edward.

Just saying the name brought a smile to her lips. She yearned to have him back in her arms. Since she'd given birth they hadn't seen each other. That meant two long weeks of loneliness.

Some of her ladies looked at each other and frowned, not liking their mistress' attitude towards her own daughter. She had been so kind with the ladies Mary and Elizabeth, but whenever someone spoke of her daughter she would frown or change the subject to something more pleasant.

"Your Majesty, your brother is here to see you." One of her ladies said.

Jane's head perked up. "Lord Hertford?" She asked. It was the new title her brother was given after she had given the king his two prized possessions.

"Yes Your Majesty."

"Show him in then." She said with a smile yet her voice was imperious.

Her brother walked in and curtsied to his sister. His heart skipped a beat when his sons turned their blond heads to their real father and waved their little hands at him. He waved back at them and sat next to his sister.

She dismissed all of her ladies including her sons' nursemaids. Once they were gone she turned to her brother. "What do you have for me?"

"Can you read me now so well?"

Jane imitated his grin. "I know that look, it's the look mother always had when she was serious."

"The king invited the queen's uncle to London to dine with you. He wants to discuss the serious matter of the betrothal between your daughter and prince Tommen. Jane, it's going to happen whether you want it or not."

"Why her? She is just a little child, pick Elizabeth, tell His Majesty she is nearly Tommen's age. She would make a better wife than Janey."

He sighed. He knew his sister would not readily agree but he had to convince her this was the best for both kingdoms and for both their families. "She is a bastard, the king will never marry her to someone of great importance like prince Tommen."

"Why not? Is he afraid that Joffrey Lannister will drop dead and Tommen ascend to the throne."

"Yes. There are many who say Tommen would be a better king and it's Joffrey Baratheon, remember the Lannisters don't take too kindly on these rumors."

"Why not? They shouldn't be ashamed to admit what they are. The Targaryens wed brother and sister after all for thousands of years."

"Yes and look what happened to their dynasty." He returned a bit harsher than he intended. She turned away and played with her sons. He touched her chin and turned her face to him. "Jane, you may not love what the king does but consider your children. Henry VIII is not a man to cross, he is happy for now but anything could happen. A cold today or who knows, what happened to Catherine of Aragon could happen to you. We must keep all possibilities open."

"How can you say that? My children are not the sickly boys Henry's women bore. They are strong and healthy and will live for many years."

Edward only smiled in response then bent down to pick price Edward who had crawled in his direction and had clung to his leg. "He is healthy now, so was prince Henry the Duke of Cornwall. I am saying this because I love you and because I don't want to see you get hurt. Accept Henry's deal, receive Ser Kevan Lannister with a smile and bring your daughter to him. He will be happy once he sees her, a healthy beautiful daughter of the house of Tudor."

"She is hardly beautiful." Jane said bringing her oldest son closer to her bosom. "I hear my nursemaids whisper that she is the ugliest baby they'd ever seen and she does nothing but crying and throw her food at her governess. Poor lady Bryan."

Edward spun his head to her, startled by her coldness but he couldn't help but agree with her. Jane's daughter was more Tudor than Seymour.

Jane Rochford watched from the keyhole the Viscount and queen interact with each other in a way she had never seen any other couple act. They loved each other, that much was plain. But it was wrong! Couldn't they see that? Their souls would burn for all eternity for the crime of incest yet neither of them seemed to mind.

And why should they? The king had cheated on the queen many times and no one said anything against it, yet if the queen were to be discovered for her crimes she would be punished in the most horrible manner and her brother too. Her children would likely be killed or sent to some dirty manor where they would die young.

No. Jane decided. Their king was wrong, he was an immoral man and not fit to wear the crown and much as she hated to admit, the country was better off without him. After what he had done to her husband George and his sister (with her help) the man deserved no respect from his subjects, least of all his wife. Jane Seymour was no exemplary wife but she had given herself to him body and soul. She had walked over her predecessor's body just as quickly as Anne would have should their roles had been reversed, and never once did she protest or scream at him when he hit her and scream at her for giving her a daughter instead of a son. Instead she took her punishments with grace and always showed a smile, even to her enemies, proving that she possessed more grace than any of her predecessors. That didn't matter to their king, he wanted passion, he wanted fire. He was like his grandfather, the Yorkist king Edward IV, addiction to passion and sex. He fucked whore after whore and sometimes he did it with others present it was rumored and flaunted them right in his wife's face but she never opened her mouth to protest.

Jane sighed as she watched the two of them kiss and the Viscount's lips traveling to her neck making the queen moan and smile from pleasure.

Jane Rochford also longed to feel loved. She thought married to a lusty and handsome man as George she would have been, but he turned out to be another whore mongrel, no different from the rest. Edward Seymour looked like he was a man she could love. His heart belonged to only one girl, and despite being married to that shrew Anne Stanhope, he was faithful to his sister in every way.

She stepped away from the door and returned to sit in one of the armchairs in the solar. Perhaps, just perhaps if Edward Seymour was not so invested in the queen and married to that Stanhope woman, he would look at her.

Perhaps. It was only a mere wish but she still hoped.

The king arrived seconds later but Edward was astute enough to work up an excuse why Jane had dismissed her ladies and they feigned disagreement with each other, which was not a completely lie since Edward did feel strongly against Jane pushing Elizabeth into a Lannister alliance.

Henry forgave his brother in law and told his wife to apologize to him and get ready for dinner. Ser Kevan had arrived ahead of schedule and brought many gifts from King's Landing with him.

* * *

Her daughter clapped her hands as Jane picked her up. _Be quiet!_ Jane thought angrily, feigning a smile when Ser Kevan sat at the dinner table, facing her and the king.

"You have a very beautiful daughter Your Majesty, you should be very proud my king."

"I am, she is just as beautiful as her sisters and her aunt Margaret. I am sure you've met her."

"I have Your Majesty on my way from Scotland I had the privilege of meeting your sister, a most accomplished lady." Ser Kevan said. His stiffness, Jane guessed was a trademark of all Lannisters. "May we speak frankly though? With all due respect, my niece and grand-nephew, are very reluctant to this match. As you must heard, the kingdom is still in chaos with some of the rebellious groups in the North, not to mention lord Stannis is still at large and that fire priestess of his finds more recruits each day."

"I am not offended Ser Kevan; His Grace can make any demands he wishes from me just as long as we are clear that he is considering my daughter for prince Tommen."

"He is but these rebellions complicate things just as well as those in the German duchies and we've recently heard our spies tell us that France has joined them."

Henry's expression darkened.

"It would be best if we wait until the lady Jane reaches an appropriate age. The lady Elizabeth I am told would be a more suitable bride."

Jane's face lightened at the mention of her youngest stepdaughter. Before Henry could intervene, she said "We are pleased you are impressed with the lady Elizabeth. She is a very desirable young lady, and I hear that prince Tommen likes to keep his own petting zoo, my stepdaughter likes to do the same. In fact she enjoys animals and rescues every stray one she finds. Isn't that right my love?" She turned to Henry.

Out of respect to their guest, Henry was forced to nod.

Ser Kevan watched the silent exchange between both spouses. He chuckled mentally. It was like looking at a past portrait of Cersei and Robert. The queen even looked like Cersei, they had the same face, the same features, and the same eyes except for their eye color. Cersei's were green and Jane Seymour's were dark blue like her brother's. His eyes fell on the girl she was holding. She shifted uncomfortably in her mother's arms and her head constantly turned everywhere. She was a great contrast to her mother was stoic and graceful.

"She is too old though. Our daughter Jane here is of my blood too and she is a royal, she would be more suitable for His Highness Tommen."

"I am certain my nephew will feel the same but should you change your mind, my family would also welcome the idea of lady Elizabeth." He turned to the queen. "I hear she's an accomplished musician. She talked non-stop about her music."

"She is Ser. She plays the harp, the lute, the virginals as well as other instruments and she is very fluent in any kind of language you can think of. I can barely understand when she is reading, I never had the opportunity to be as learned as she is."

Ser Kevan smiled. The queen had piqued his interest in the king's older daughter. "What languages does she speak?"

"Greek, Latin, Spanish although it is not as good as her sister's, the lady Mary now Frey, and she is currently learning High Valyrian and she's making very good progress from what her tutors tell me."

"Impressive. Your Majesty must be very proud. If we only had so many women as accomplished as her in King's Landing we would end the war sooner." Kevan said and both he and the queen laughed.

Henry remained silent, saying only a few words to discredit his older daughter but for every word he said, Jane only enlarged her figure singing more praises that convinced Ser Kevan that was the better option for prince Tommen.

* * *

"What was that?" Henry railed at her when they were in her chambers. He wanted to exercise his rights as a husband again. His mistress Ursula was ill, likely having another bastard of his and all the courtiers had hid their pretty daughters from him. That only left him with the option of Jane.

She had given him two healthy sons, she could give him more. That made the night more bearable when he walked into her bedchamber wearing only his chemise.

"What was what?" Jane asked with an innocent smile.

"Do not play dumb with me Jane, you know damn well what I mean. You convinced Ser Kevan that our daughter was a pathetic fool so you could marry his nephew to that bastard."

"That bastard is your daughter and she was once the jewel of your world."

"That was before her mother was a traitor. You had no right meddling in my business."

"If you didn't want me to meddle then why did you invite me to dinner? Did you think I was going to give our daughter to prince Tommen, a girl who can barely tell one person from another and laughs at everything she sees? They would eat her alive."

"And you think Elizabeth would do better?" Henry demanded, his dark grey eyes boring into her dark blue ones.

"Yes." She answered firmly with a cold smile. "Elizabeth is more accomplished and she understands how court works much better than our daughter ever will. Given time, she will also learn to speak every other tongue in Westeros. Like it or not Henry, she is the best option."

Henry wanted to strike her but finding no way to counter her arguments he opted for silence.

Jane smiled inwardly at her small victory. While others called her dumb and boring in comparison to his previous wives, they didn't know that what killed them had been their big mouths. Jane's courage stemmed from her endurance, from the lessons she bore from childhood, from her mother's advice that a lady's best defense was not her knowledge but her words and how she used them.

Just as Henry had his sword and her brother had his mind, she had her words, they were both her shield and her sword against men like Henry.

* * *

Anne slid her arms down her husband's chest. It was the first time she had experienced pure pleasure with him. She had been lost when they reached their peak that she didn't hear him whisper _"Jane"_ in her ear.

However her joy was shattered when he opened his eyes and expecting to see his sister, he was disappointed to see her and his face twisted showing nothing but utter disgust at her.

He hurried from the room yelling at his servants to move his things to the guest room where he would sleep from now on.

Anne was shocked and wounded at his behavior. In all their years of marriage since he divorced that penniless woman to marry her –for her fortune- he said, he had never treated her this way. She had hurt him many times and told him she would never be fateful to him since she knew he didn't love her, but even then he respected her and lied with her just so she could pass off her bastards as his own –so he would not be the laughing stock of court. But never had he acted this way!

She felt so humiliated and in a flash of anger she burst into his chambers still naked and gave him a serious tongue lash but his only response was a shrug that hurt her more than any words, and actions he had ever done against her.

Edward thanked god the shrew was out of his room. How could he succumb so quickly? Was he really that desperate for pleasure?

Two weeks, he and Jane hadn't been together for two weeks and he could already feel the weariness every time they were together. His loins stirred every time he thought of her and Anne had been there when he felt frustrated and angry he couldn't have Jane in his arms again.

_Lovesick fool!_ Hadn't he learned anything from his past marriages? All women were the same. They all pretended they loved him but when he least expected they betrayed him. He had learned that with his first wife, that whore Catherine Fillol who slept with his father. His father of all people! Behind his back. Then there was Anne Stanhope but at least he knew she was a whore. He only married her for her lands, nonetheless he allowed himself to believe that she would love him, but she only wanted to use him for his influence and relations at court.

They were all the same. Damn every one of them. He rubbed his temple.

How could he rid himself of this affliction? He tried everything. Praying, kneeling, reading, but Jane was there every time he ate, he slept, in his thoughts, in his dreams. She had made him her slave and he let her.

_God help me._ He thought with a cold laugh. He would lose his head for this and probably burn for all eternity in hell but he didn't care. Jane was his and no one else's.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks to everyone who's reviewing. Keep reviewing**

* * *

_You are what you are in this world -Denzel Washington  
_

"Enjoy." Henry told his wife. Jane held the small staff in her hand. So this was what queens carried on the day of their coronation. It felt heavy on her thin arms but it was beautiful and made of solid gold. She would keep it under her most prized possessions. She thanked Ser Kevan for his presents and the attention he had given to her youngest stepdaughter.

"Your Majesty does me much honor allowing me to visit her. The king has warned me to stay away, he says that I should write to my brother and advise against the match. I never heard a man speak so ardently against his child."

"The king of England has ill feelings against every one of his bastards, except the boys, he speaks highly of them."

"Even Henry Fitzroy?"

He struck a chord when he said that name. Jane smiled. "Yes, even him." She said. He'd lost his late son the Duke of Richmond so when lady Ursula gave him a son he chose to name him as his late brother and even give him the same title, albeit making him an Earl instead of a Duke. Something Jane was thankful for, for a Duke would mean an obstacle in her sons' path.

"Your Majesty if I may, will the king consider another match hopefully one between your daughter and any sons His Grace Joffrey will have with the lady Margery?"

"Perhaps but it may be years before His Grace Joffrey has a son and Janey might be too old by that time." Jane said showing no smile when she spoke of her daughter.

Kevan recognized the bitterness in the woman's voice. It was the same bitterness his niece showed when she spoke of her late husband. "Your Majesty I only meant out of respect to reconcile the king with the idea of wedding his daughter with prince Tommen, and an alliance like this would strengthen the ties between both our dynasties."

"Yes it would but as I've already mentioned to you Ser Kevan, it could be years before king Joffrey has a son and I do not like the idea of marrying my only daughter to someone far younger than she is." She said, her gaze softening when she heard her sons giggle. She walked to their cribs and watched them smile at her.

Kevan recognized the queen's worry but assured her that princess Jane would make the king's son, or any royal son she married proud. "Your Majesty has given the king three healthy children, it is more that can be said from your predecessors and your mother gave birth eight times, many of whom survived. She will be fertile as you."

"Or she will be barren as my predecessors." Jane returned. "Please Ser Kevan forgive me, I only mean to speak frankly to you since you are our guest and you've shown us kindness since you came and I mean to repay that kindness. My daughter is still young and my birth record as my mother's mean nothing. The princess Dowager's mother bore many children and many of them died in infancy, so did my mother's mother. Princess Jane could prove to be another disappointment like my stepdaughter's late mothers." Seeing Ser Kevan's expression she added. "I could be wrong but we must keep all possibilities open." She said with a smile. "Might I suggest instead a daughter of king Joffrey and lady Margery with my oldest son prince Thomas?"

Ser Kevan's eyebrows rose. He had considered that possibility but every time he voiced it to his grandnephew along with his brother, Joffrey spat at them that he would have no useless daughters only son. But an alliance with England proved more fruitful this way and seeing that the queen would never agree to marry her only daughter to any of Joffrey's future offspring, Kevan had to agree to this union.

He asked to see the prince of Wales to make sure he was healthy and strong as the king boasted he was. Jane handed her oldest son to him. Kevan took a good look at him and inspected every part of him. He was pleased with what he saw.

"Will you speak to the king about this?"

"No, the king will not listen to my council, I am only his wife, I do not meddle in state affairs however my brother can, he is a member of the privy council and has recently been made an Earl. If you go to him, he will present the proposition in your name to my lord husband. Let us pray he agrees." Jane said with an open smile.

"Let us pray." Kevan agreed wanting to tell her that he didn't want to take credit for her idea but the queen was too wise to speak her mind. Her best defense unlike Henry's previous queens, was her silence and she stayed alive this long thanks to it.

* * *

Mary prayed every morning she woke up next to her husband's old body. The names came mechanically out of her mouth every time she rose. She spoke so low so no one would hear her.

_Walder Frey, Henry Tudor, big Walder, little Walder, Aemon Rivers, Frances Grey, Eleanor Brandon, mistress Martha and Philip Wittelsbach._

She prayed that death would come to them, slowly and painfully.

While she spent her time feeding her hatred for them, Philip and Robb Stark's party left the brotherhood of the broken banners and decided to march South to one of the ports where they would find a ship that would take them to Braavos.

"Why Braavos?" Philip asked when they were on the small ship they purchased. Robb's wife, Catherine was next to him, voicing the same thing.

"Because she says there is something important there."

"Who? Arya? but Braavos is on the other side of the map, by the time we get there the Lannisters would have defeated Stannis and we would have lost our best tool." Not to mention Germany. The Emperor's forces were winning and France was a great ally –for now but it wouldn't be for long before they were defeated by Spanish and English forces yet again.

"You are not obliged to follow me Philip. You can return to Bavaria or to your brother if you wish to but this is my destiny. There is the rightful queen of the seven kingdoms waiting across the narrow sea, rumors are she has three dragons and they have doubled in size. It will be years before they grow but when they do, there will be nowhere in the world for the Lannisters to hide."

"And you think when the time comes she will help you regain the North. Robb I know how much you wish to avenge your wife and son's death but listen to me, don't go there. Go back to the North, reclaim what is yours, take your chances there. There are many people who are still loyal to you and with your brother recently elected as lord commander of the Night's Watch, you can have an army."

He snorted. "My brother is loyal to his oaths to a fault. I am not, I've stopped being honorable since they killed my father and slaughtered my men along with the mother of my unborn child and my mother. I will not let this opportunity slip from my fingers. If you want you can leave, no one is forcing you."

The Duke of Bavaria sighed cursing himself for what he was about to say but he had no option either. His home had been taken from him by bad decisions, gambling and many debts. He had the same luck as Robb, if he and this queen met and they won, he would regain his duchy and with it his fortune and would rescue Mary from the clutches of Frey.

He remembered when he heard she was with child. He had balled his fists and slashed through every tree he could find. Robb had to convince him not to do something foolish like run to the Twins.

Mary was his. He had kissed her and proclaimed his love to her the day before their expected wedding. He would have made love to her but he could tell she was nervous and promised he wouldn't until they were married. Now he regretted it. The child could have been his, she would not have to suffer carrying that man's child.

He sighed and looked straight into Robb's clear blue eyes. "Do you believe she can win my friend?"

Robb shook his head. "I don't know but win or lose I will take my chances with her."

"Then I will go with you my friend for your word is as good as mine." They smiled at each other and clasped hands. They told the captain to set sail and slowly watched as the city got smaller until it disappeared.


	9. Chapter 9

**I wrote these chapters beforehand, I promise I will update golden rose this week if I don't get too stressed with work. My sunburns just healed so makes my muscles more relaxed. **

* * *

"My lady," Lord Roose paid his respects to the new lady Frey.

He had heard she was beautiful but he never imagined she was this beautiful. She put all of lord Walder's previous wives to shame. Including his daughters who were too fat, too thin and too ugly with the exception of lady Roslin Frey who had married Edmure Tully –and even she was no match for the goddess standing in front of him.

She withdrew her hand from his lips. She had no love for this man or any Westerosi lord. She heard how he and others had betrayed the king of the North and were personally responsible for his kingdom's fall and his mother and unborn child's death.

_Roose Bolton._ She added his name on her death list. There were so many names now, but the main ones she would always repeat them first in order. Eventually she stopped praying to god and just said their names. Her dark prayer and conjuring the worst deaths for them on her mind were her only solace during this dark time.

Rumors about the mother of dragons across the narrow sea and Robb Stark joining her brought her no comfort.

Nothing would bring her comfort until she saw lord Walder Frey her lord her husband, his family, her father, her caretaker, Roose Bolton, and everyone that had betrayed her dead including Philip.

That had been the worst betrayal. She had opened her heart to him. He told her how much she loved her and she believed him. _You idiot, you gave your heart to him and what did he do?_ She cast her eyes down. _You stupid red headed fool._

Love was poison, beautiful and sweet at first but deadly in the long run.

Her stepmother had been right. She had no love for her husband and she hoped she would love the child growing inside her but she couldn't. Every time she felt it move, she just hated it more. And she added that bastard's name, not knowing if it was her husband's or his bastard grandson's, on her list.

* * *

Anne asked her servants why her chambers were locked. "I am sorry Madame but lord Hertford thought that you would be with Sir Francis."

She narrowed her eyes, angry that this fool dared to speak to her with such boldness. One warning was enough for him to move and let his mistress enter.

She heard muffling sounds from Edward's room. That dreaded bedroom of his that he refused to share with her. Since she discovered that her husband was capable of providing her with such passion that exceeded that of Bryan and her other lovers, including his youngest brother Henry, she sought him continuously but he never responded to her advances. Eventually she began to think he was like an eunuch, he was incapable of pleasure or any other human emotion but she was proven wrong again when he lay with her one more time. It was a month ago, he was weary and he was mumbling in his sleep. She knew it was wrong to take advantage in his ill state but knowing he would not come to her bed otherwise, she did. He responded quickly, thrusting furiously in her and exploring every corner of her body. They were together for two nights, each time it got better until the second morning after when he was well and he became conscious of what they'd done. He threw her off his bed and threatened for the first time with violence never to come near him again.

She hated him yet a part of her still clung to him. Hearing Edward's screams of passion infuriated her.

Just who was this bitch he was with? She was about to open the doors and scream at him and slap his whore when she suddenly heard: "Oh Jane. Oh god. Jane, I love you."

* * *

Jane Rochford put on the sleeping cap on the queen's head. "Has the king sent any letter?" She asked, a bit hesitantly.

"No, Your Majesty." She said.

The queen thanked her and told her to leave. She thanked god that Henry would not visit her today.

Edward urged her to lure the king into her bed again but she had no desire to. If the king wanted to fuck lady Ursula Miseldon again he was more than welcome. She had what she wanted and besides, he had done the deed a week ago when he visited her bed. She could always say that this next child was conceived on that night.

* * *

Mary played with her favorite stepdaughter's son. He was only a month old but he was big and strong like his father. Let us hope for your sake you are not as indolent. Mary thought as she bounced him on her leg. Her stepmother, queen Jane had sent her gifts and a letter written to her in Greek that Mary had no doubt had been written by one of her ladies or her secretaries since the queen knew no other language but English, Latin, and French. In it she advised to forgive all past transgressions and as the Lord Jesus Christ to love her _enemies. Mary would have thrown it into the fire and curse her too were it not what it said on the bottom: _

_Fear not Mary, for one day you will rule over your husband's dominions with the child you give him._ _If you can't love your husband or the child, love what he represents, and put all your ambitions on him._

Mary gave her step-grandson back to his mother and slid a hand to her belly. She felt the child move. A son. She could feel it in her bones and as her stepmother suggested she would invest all her dreams and ambitions on her little bastard so when the time was right she would thrust a dagger in lord Walder Frey's heart and slice every member of his family's neck.

* * *

"Mama." Jane opened her big arms for her mother, the queen. Jane Seymour smiled at her young daughter and gave her a quick hug before embracing her stepdaughter Elizabeth.

Janey was too young to understand her mother's animosity but at her young age of two, she already knew she was not loved.

"Good news." Jane whispered in her stepdaughter's ear. "A letter has arrived from King's Landing, they have postponed the king's wedding to lady Margery long enough but they will finally wed on the twenty third of September, your birthday and that same day they will declare your betrothal to prince Tommen."

Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The king has decided to marry me to his brother?"

"Yes." Jane said with a big smile.

"But I am just a bastard!"

"You are a king's daughter and your sister is one of the wealthiest ladies now in the seven kingdoms and has proven her fertility giving lord Walder Frey a son. You will make an excellent wife for the prince Tommen."

"But Your Majesty I …" she closed her mouth. What could she say? To be a princess again? They said that king Joffrey's condition was getting worse and although he had a lovely bride in Margery, who knew what would happen if his cruelty continued? Her sweetness would not be enough to placate the murderous multitude in King's landing and all over Westeros for that matter who wanted him dead. _If that happens, Tommen ascends to the throne and I become a queen. _Her mother's dream would become true at last. And once as queen she would see lord Walder Frey punished and all of his sons punished as well and her sister would join her as one of her ladies and she would become regent for her son until he came of age.

Jane saw what was going through her mind and whispered in her ears boldly that she would do wonders as queen, feeding her ego.

"I will try my best Jane, but it will be what god wills." Elizabeth quickly says as one of Her Majesty's ladies came into the room.

Jane smiled warmly saying, "Of course." Then when the ladies and her daughter and her nursemaids left them alone, she said. "You will make an excellent queen." She said poking her nose and both laughed.

* * *

Philip dreamt of Mary daily. She was in his prayers. He wished he could be with her again to tell her how much he loved her and to beg her forgiveness.

Despite their successful meeting with the mother of dragons, the situation proved to be more difficult than they expected. She was tenacious and spirited but she was miles and miles away from the sea and with an army of slaves as her last resort, it would be very difficult to regain the Iron Throne.

Westeros had slavery outlawed and although it was a common practice in many European colonies, primarily in the Spanish colonies in the Americas, it would not be well seen.

Each day that he looked down at the sketch he had drawn on her, he found himself gritting his teeth, slashing his sword against any piece of wood or tree he found. Lady Stark found him one night swearing against god, asking him why if He was so merciful did He let this happen.

He spun around at the sound of a broken fig. "Lady Stark forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive." She said crossing her arms against her chest, she wore a long gown and a fur shawl. She was dressed in the European fashion of her country, but the colors were Northern, grey and dark blue that reminded Philip of Robb's mother.

"I've had my moments cursing and howling at the wind. When my late lord and husband died, I cursed god many times. I prayed for his murderers' deaths, including my king but with time I found that I was causing no one pain except myself with my hatred."

"I don't want to cause them pain, I want them dead, all of them. I can't forgive them for what they've done nor can I forgive myself."

She smiled sadly. "Be careful what you wish for Your Grace, hate is like a maze, you don't realize you're in one until it's too late and you realize there's no way out."

"I want to obey god, I want to be faithful but I can't forgive what has been done to me. I didn't love her you know. When I was sent to England under my family's orders, she was just another mission. I didn't care for her or her family, I just saw her as another means to an end but soon as I lay eyes on her I fell in love with her. I wished to make her mine, she even suggested we married that night so I could make sweet love to her. I wanted to but I would not, I wanted to do this right for once." He laughed coldly. "What a fool I was." He sat on the ground. Catherine sat next to him. Her extensive clothes covered her pregnant belly.

"It's not easy, we will probably lose more loved ones before this war is over. I can't guarantee whether she will live or die but I promise you my husband will give you the justice you seek and if she lives, you will be powerful enough with your duchy and riches increased to marry her."

Philip smiled a small smile. "I wish I can believe that." He looked at the night sky. "How long does it go on?"

"Until we've dealt with all of our opponents."

He smirked. "Every time we deal with one we create another. It will never end, this war will end up consuming everything and everyone we love." He cast his eyes down.

Catherine rubbed his back and leaned closer to him. She could say nothing more, his heart and soul were set on vengeance and nothing she said could deter him from that path.

* * *

News arrived from the Riverlands that the lady Mary had given birth to a son but Anne didn't care about that. Her husband had locked himself in his rooms again like every other night he thought her absent.

She heard their moans coming from his bedchamber.

"Jane" "Jane" he whispered in her ear. One night she could not wait any longer and she burst in his chambers expecting to see that bitch Rochford since he had screamed her name over and over, she thought it was her he was fucking but to her surprise when the blond bitch turned it was not George Boleyn's widow but the queen.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for reviewing. Keep reviewing.**

**I thought I lost inspiration for this chapter but turning on my radio I heard the song that brought me back to this. I know I have another story, I thank everyone who's reviewed it and I will try to update that story and this one next week but my work schedule is pretty tight so it might take me a while.**

* * *

Anne covered her mouth, looking at them with disgust. "Oh god..."

Edward withdrew from Jane and moved to rise, but something in Jane stirred -maybe it was the passion, maybe it was the heat of the moment- that made her grab his face and press her lips against his.

"Mmm … mmm Edward" She moaned biting his lower lip and feeling him wince in pain. "Edward … Edward please … my love." She breathed on his ear as her hands traveled from his face to his hairless chest and to his face again until she buried them in his hair. "Edward ..."

He kissed her savagely, sucking on her neck then pushed her down. Her back lying against the bed. Then he thrust in her, stabbing her furiously until she was in a daze, and her voice ran dry from screaming his name.

How is it no one has heard us?

The answer came to her from the screams upstairs. The king, his men, and whoever they were fucking drowned Edward's and Jane's screams.

Edward took a sharp intake of breath and let out a powerful roar as he continued to piston in her. Jane lost all consciousness and drifted into a profound sleep. He wasn't ready to withdraw from her just yet. With her body still in rhythm, he continued to ravage her. He gave one final thrust and kissed her open mouth then withdrew.

He stepped down from the bed and bent down to take his dirty chemise. Anne was amazed that he still had the strength to walk.

"Well, what do you want? I thought you were busy in the king's orgy." From upstairs they heard the king's roars of laughter and his gentlemen's merriment as another whore was brought to them. "If you have time, you may still catch them." He clapped and called his servant Philippe to bring him wine. "The good one not this ugly thing."

Anne had still not gotten over her shock. She watched Edward drink from the wine they brought him then put his glass down to go back to Jane. "Jane wake up, we have a surprise guest, remember?" He whispered in her ear. His lips traveled to her neck then to her breast, sucking on her warm milk.

Jane stirred and woke up with a smile on her face and a look of pure bliss that screamed 'fuck me'.

His pupils dilated at the sight of it.

He pointed to her left where his wife was standing. Jane saw Anne Stanhope and it all came back to her. "Lady Anne, would you want to join us?"

Anne stepped back. She felt queasy and sick to her stomach. She looked around the room frantically. Her eyes caught sight of her husband's chamber pot lying underneath his bed. She took it out and threw up in it.

Jane smiled at the poor woman._ Poor? She would've roast me alive if that meant another title for her. She's mocked my brother far enough, now it's my turn._

Anne's head came up and all she could think of as they smiled coldly at her was "Why?"

Edward laughed insanely at his wife. "Why? You are asking me why when you opened your legs for any man who was willing? I never cared for you or your sex, being inside you was like an obligation. I married you for your lands and your money but I see now the grave mistake I've done. Any whore would've been better than you, at least a well trained one would have the decency to hide her lust from anyone and not fuck the first man she sees."

"How dare you my lord when I loved you and pledged my love to you on the altar."

"Aye and your disobedience and your whoring ways or do you forget what you told me? 'You don't love me so I don't have to be faithful to you.' Wasn't our agreement, we would be a marriage of love and duty and work together to further our dynasty and our ambitions but you just couldn't keep your legs closed, could you?"

"I gave you everything, my stepfather gave you everything, you've even named him steward for your little prince but oh now I see that you never wanted any woman in your bed not because you were an eunuch or a cold fish but because no woman was good enough for you but this bitch! You call me a whore Edward but what are you whoring with your own sister of all people!"

"Jane is more than my sister, we are part of each other. She knows her duty and the two of us are one half of the other while you are just a common whore and not a good one because you never brought me pleasure."

"I seem to recall you screaming in my ear every time you pierced your lance in me. What is the word you'd use? 'more' 'more' 'Please give me more darling … sweetheart ...'"

"Stop it." Edward said with a deadly voice but Anne continued imitating his screams from those nights she'd gotten true pleasure from him. (Undoubtedly it was because he must have thought she was Jane, but it didn't matter, he gave her the one thing he denied her and now she was carrying his son, a true son of his, thanks to that).

"'Give me more … oh yes … yes … Anne … Anne ...'" He cut her short. Anne fell down, when she rose, her eyes flashed with hatred, clutching her left cheek where he slapped her but it was no match for Edward whose eyes flashed with more hatred and showed her the emotions that for years he repressed, showing her how he truly felt about her.

He took a step forward as she took one back. "Get. Out. Of. My. Sight." He hissed then grabbed her wrist, imprinting his hands on her delicate skin. She winced in pain and seeing her pain only made this better for him. "If you speak of this night I will kill all Francis' bastards one by one. Oh yes, I know." He added smiling cruelly as she looked at him terrified.

He let her go and she hurried to her room, wiping her tears so in the vain hope that her husband came to her, he would not see her pain. But he had and it proved delectable when Jane sat up and crooked her finger.

"That is the best I've felt in years." He said after he took her again. "I will not let her hurt you." Edward promised then pulled away as the sun came up.

"Let me stay."

He sighed, he was already risking too much with Anne in the other room.

"Please," she begged. "Henry won't be in my chambers for at least another night. He always gets too drunk when he is with Sir Francis and his other friends. We can have the day all to ourselves."

"You know we can't. Your ladies will be searching for you and you have to attend your queenly duties and I have to attend another meeting with the privy council."

Jane groaned with disappointment but Edward was right. It was too much of a risk and who knew if Henry wouldn't just suddenly show up in her rooms demanding to share her bed?

He went to pick her clothes and helped her dress and with the help of her servant sneaked her to her chambers before her ladies arrived.

Anne spun around to meet her husband's cold gaze. He tossed her his handkerchief and left without giving her a second glance. "Edward! Come back here! You can't do this to me!"

He closed the doors behind him and told his servants to allow any man except the king, to come into his chambers if he wished. Maybe a little company with Sir Francis or whoever she was with, would do her some good.

* * *

"Twinkle, twinkle little star how I wonder how you are ..." She sang to her son who sough her breast for milk.

She didn't want to hold him, she didn't want to feed him but lord Walder Frey left her no choice. Until she didn't behave, he said, she would care for him, clothe him and feed him.

He giggled seeing her smile and her laugh, mistaking it for joy when she was really feeling pleasure thinking of the many ways she would kill and burn all of lord Walder Frey's family including this one. She almost killed him when he was born, ordered the tears of Lys and was about to push the venom into his rosebud lips when Roslin came and exclaimed what a beautiful new baby brother she had.

Mary never felt more disgusted at herself. What was she becoming? She barely recognized herself right now. In the mirror there was not the young teen who dreamed of princes and princesses but a bitter young woman, a cold beauty who was this close to snapping her son's neck.

She cried hearing him gaggle and she realized she pressed him too close to her breast. She began to shake him, hoping he would wake up but he didn't and she cried harder, her tears touching his face and the blood she'd drawn from her bitten lip to his mouth when suddenly she heard a cry from his lips and looking down she saw her baby was alive but crying, looking at her in horror. "It's alright I am here, I am sorry. I am sorry."

The baby calmed down and kicked his mother one last time when she brought him to her face. She let him do what he wanted, kick, scream, hit her, it didn't matter as long as he was alive.

* * *

Philip counted the days he would drive this lance to Walder Frey's heart, every Frey including her son but hearing the reports that the babe had her eyes and her facial features, helped alleviate the pain and resentment he felt.

"She is not lost to you forever." Arya said one night, seeing him burn every pagan idol he'd ever worshipped from his mother's Catholic faith. They had also reminded him of what he lost, the blind trust she placed on her faith that caused her to be in this position.

She took out a dagger she said she stole from the Hound. "It's Valyrian steel. You can use it against them." She said and slowly added "And her son."

Philip stared into right into her cold blue eyes. She moved to rise but he caught her wrist. "Careful with what you speak."

She shrugged in response. She didn't care if he was angry or not, she spoke the truth how she saw it. She yanked her wrist breaking free of his grip and walked away.

Philip stared down at the dagger. Could he really do it? Stain it with the blood of an infant? An innocent boy?

_Not innocent_ -his mind told him. _He is the son of your enemy and you made a vow not to rest until every Frey is dead._

He took the dagger and put it back on its sheath then went to his quarters.

* * *

Catherine placed her husband's hand on her belly. "We could name him Eddard for your father and William for mine."

"I like both names but I prefer just William." Robb told her, and leaned his head down, putting his ear against her belly to feel his son's kicks. As soon as the baby felt his father's presence, he gave a swift kick then another and then another until Robb was laughing and whispered at him to stop.

"He is a fighter like his father."

"Or perhaps he is an obstinate scholar like his mother." Robb said and she chuckled.

Her two year olds were being watched by Arya who was teaching them another one of her 'survival' skills. Catherine didn't want her sister in law as their guardian but Robb insisted telling her that if they died, Arya would be the only hope Winterfell had against the Lannisters, Freys, and Boltons. Catherine hated to admit it but he was right. Arya had proven she could survive on her own and while she would have preferred someone more proper like Robb's captive sister Sansa to look after them, because of the war they were in his youngest sister was their best choice.

"I am not obstinate, I only try to be right." She said guiding his other hand to her belly.

It had been two long years since Thomas died and since then lady Sudeley had been comforted by Robb's presence. He and his family had been the only people she had relied on during this time. They were an odd bunch. Arya reminded her a lot of the former princess Mary now lady Frey. Both girls were rebellious, vindictive, and their beauty was masked by their desire for revenge. She tried to make a lady out of her but Arya said she would rather have a sword and slay a thousand men than be a_ mindless_ and _useless _lady. But Cate never gave up. _'Someday' _she boasted to her husband_ 'I will make Arya a lady.' _And when that day came she would be there by his side as they gave Arya away to her husband to tell him '_I told you so.'_

Robb took off his chemise and moved closer to her, embracing her. She rested her head on his neck. She would do the same for all of her husbands seeking protection. With Thomas it was different, she loved the way he touched, kissed her. It was the first time she knew what it felt to be loved.

Robb felt the same with Talisa. Yet there was never that bond, that spiritual tie that his mother often spoke of that he felt now with Cate.

He bent down and kissed her forehead, waiting for her to sleep but sleep never came so he chose to start another subject. "When I have the North back I will pay for what they did."

"We've talked about this." She said with a disappointed voice.

"I know how you feel Cate but every one of them must pay. And I will make their screams be heard from here to the Wall and before this next year is done I promise you, I will cut their heads down myself and put them on spikes for all to see."

"Henry VIII put the rebels and traitors from the pilgrimage of grace on spikes for everyone to see and what did he get? Everyone either fears or respect them. Those who feel neither are sentenced to death or quickly discovered by Latimer's spies."

"And Cromwell, you forget that fanatical Protestant too."

Catherine frowned. "Not all of us are fanatical. I've learned to live with your pagan faith."

"You have but you haven't embraced it, when you become my queen you will have to embrace it if you want to be accepted by my people."

"What if I chose not to? I believe in my god as much as you believe in yours Robb, I cannot abandon my faith."

"No one is asking you to but you must decide. Your faith or the well being of my kingdom."

"What about their souls? Will I forsaken their souls just for their pride. My god is the one true god, I've believed that since I was a child and I believe that now and I believe my faith is the one true path to achieving salvation. What am I but another Roman hypocrite if I don't teach the millions of Northerners the truth?"

"And what truth is that? That if they don't accept their lord Jesus Christ he will cast them out into the flames?"

"That is not what I meant." Cate said feeling disappointed once again that Robb didn't understand her. Her faith wasn't a choice, it was her destiny. All men must follow their destiny and god had put her on this earth, she was certain, to make converts of every man.  
"I will become the queen you want me to be, I will. I will embrace your gods if that is what you want me to be but I will never accept them. I will only accept one god and that is the one true god and if you make me your queen then you will have to live with that knowledge and with the knowledge that I will never stop in my mission to deliver the truth and translate the bible to the people of Westeros so they can see the truth for themselves."

Robb chuckled despite his anger at his wife's pig stubborn pride. "Then I guess you are no better than Melisandre."

At the mention of that woman Cate scowled.

"I didn't mean it love but you have to admit your god is very similar. Her god is the same as Luther and all you Christians I guess with the exception that like your faith it forbids all idols and thinks all savage pagans in need of re-education." He said with mock, chuckling.

She smiled sadly. If only he understood, if only Arya and the rest understood, they would not mock the one true god and the one true faith. "It is the only path of salvation. The lady Melisandre has her god all wrong. I believe her god is my god but as with everything she does, she misinterprets his will."

"And you don't."

"I don't believe to speak for Him, but I know that His will is just and fair as it is shown in the bible. His ways are mysterious and sometimes they seem to cruel to us but they are always done with the best of intentions."

"My gods also do everything with the best of intentions and they always end up causing harm."

"That's because your gods are not merciful or wise as mine." She brought his head down to meet hers and kissed his lips softly. "My god is the one true god and while you don't wish to see it, I will never cease to remind you of it." He then guided one of his hands, returning it to her belly to feel their unborn child kick. "This will be the little William you will teach to ride horses and take him to war, and the Lord will smile on him, even if you don't believe in him, He will believe in you and He will protect our family."

Her voice brought him comfort and helped him push off the worry he felt when they reminded him of what the lady Melisandre and every other follower of her red god had said.

Her voice made him enter into a trance and he almost found himself believing her words when he kissed her again.


	11. Chapter 11

Mary knelt before her son. "Hi, I am your mama, remember?" She didn't have problem liking children. She was named after her aunt, Mary Rose Tudor who also liked children. Her father liked to call her his "pearl" because she reminded him so much of her.

But she was gone, same as her mother and ever other person she cared for. She took her son, rocked him in her arms, and sang to him in hopes it would draw a smile but he only cried harder.

"Why don't you like me? Tell me what must I do."

The baby seemed to answer by putting his hands on his chest, reminding her of what she'd done two weeks ago.

"I am sorry. I wanted to love you, I really did but you have that ugly Frey hair, brown and those high cheekbones, I couldn't love you but now I do. Now I do because you are my baby." And like her stepmother had told her, she may never love her husband but she'd love his children.

She didn't think of this baby as Walder Frey and his bastard grandson's baby anymore, she just thought of him as her baby. She carried, she gave birth to him. It was hers.

She rubbed her nose against him and at this gesture the baby was calmed. "You like that? My mum used to do it, so she told me. Every night." The baby boy gurgled. "My mother would've loved to hold you in your hands, she loved the idea of seeing me married. It was her lifelong dream." _As mine. Once upon a time ..._

She was brought from her thoughts by her baby boy's loud laughter. She wiped her tears with one hand and brought her son to his face.

He took one of his mother's curls and instead of pulling it as he usually did since his near-death, he played with it and only pulled it gently.

"You like playing with mummy's hair? Careful or you will leave mummy bold."

He let go of her hair and raised his arms to her face, touching her lips then his own as if comparing them. She kissed his tiny forehead and before she pulled away she felt his tiny lips on her cheek.

"Sweet boy."

Henry, she'd named him to fuel her hatred for her father. But after realizing that he was different from all the men in her life, she stopped thinking of him as her father's grandson and more as her brother's nephew. Her lost brother, Henry Arthur. The Duke of Cornwall and prince of Wales. If he'd lived both she and her mother would've had better lives and this little one's father would've been a better man.

Yet, perhaps Jane was right. Perhaps everything in life had a purpose. If god hadn't sent her here, she would've never been blessed with a son.

Since her love for him, she vowed she would one day become mistress of everything his father owned. The twins, the Riverlands, everything. She would rule through him and she would no longer be known as lady Frey but as lady Mary, lady of the Riverlands and regent for her son.

Why not?

Lysa Arryn ruled through her son and a son, her mother always said, was power. She'd done her duty. She had a son, she could still have more. One could never have too many sons. And after she was done with the Freys and her son became ruler, she'd rule over him as the rest of her children, deciding their marriages, and their liaisons.

She put him back in his crib and pushed the covers closer to his body. Staring down at him, she frowned. Was she any better than Frey or her mother's mortal enemy's family for using her son to further her ambitions?  
_No. They did it for power, I am doing it to preserve my mother's legacy._

She left his nursery and returned to her chambers. Her stepdaughter Roslin was waiting for her. Her husband had refused to cooperate with Walder Frey so he locked him up in a dirty cell. His sister, lady Arryn as usual, sent a reply that she couldn't help him because she was too busy ruling in her son's stead.

_Poor fool._ No one would come to his aid. And yet here was Roslin Tully nee Frey, living a life of luxury at his expense.

Mary helped her stepdaughter with her knitting. Mary always hated it, she complained to Roslin that she preferred hawking, hunting, riding, and archery, but her father being the good man that he was made sure she grew up to be a respectable lady.

Roslin laughed nervously. "My father tried to do the same for me but he always said that I was too un-lady like until my mother, gods bless her, was taken and he took a new interest in me. I loved knitting until my father told me I'd hate to perfect the skill when I became Robb Stark's queen. I-I mean the traitor's wife." She quickly rephrased.

Mary knit her eyebrows. "You didn't want to marry lord Stark?"

"It's not that I didn't want to marry him but you know what they say about Northerners."

"No, I don't know what they say."

"They say they are too hot headed, very volatile, quick tempered. One day they can be hot, cold, you never know." She shrugged. "I didn't want to marry him but my father said it was my duty as his daughter and it would bring prestige to the house of Frey."

Mary felt sympathetic for the girl's plight yet she couldn't allow that emotion to stay with her for long. She steeled herself and asked, "And if you married him ... that is, if you had become his queen, wouldn't you've been happy as a queen more than a lord's wife?"

"I guess." Roslin said uncertainly, she never really thought about it. Her duty was to obey, not to question. Women who did, are dumb women her father always said. "But then my son would be the son of a traitor and I would be a traitor too."

"You are right, pity though. Robb Stark would've helped your father's house more by marrying you, instead he chose that foreign girl."

"Yes. Pity." Roslin said with a sad voice. She'd love Edmure Tully. He was handsome and he was funny and during their wedding night he was gentle. He was nothing like her brothers told her he'd be and nothing like his savage nephew, Robb Stark. He was everything a wife would want. But her father had ruined that relationship when he murdered her husband's family. Only three people had escaped from that massacre. Her husband's uncle, nephew, and lord Sudeley's wife.

Since then, her husband refused to speak to her. Whenever they were together, he was forced to acknowledge her, in closed doors however he would take his anger out on her. Mocking her, laughing at her, criticizing for everything she did, even the littlest thing. Nothing was ever good for him. And when she tried to show him their son, he spat at her and told him he would never acknowledge that boy and would rather see him drowned.  
In response her father locked him up and refused to let him out until he apologized to Roslin. Although Roslin knew the truth was much more different. Edmure Tully knew where his uncle and nephew could be possibly hiding and he refused to cooperate so her father chained him.

She glanced at the baby cap her stepmother was sewing. It was not dark green as the cap the rest of the men in her family wore, but bright green with the Tudor rose and the Twins towers in the middle.

"It's very beautiful. Will you help me make one? I can't get the fish right, every time I try I end up putting the wrong color."

Mary nodded and went to her stepdaughter and helped her pick the colors for the Tully trout. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you." Roslin said with a big smile.

Mary gave a small smile in return. After they were done she went to the Frey Hall where she sat next to her husband and Roslin and the other Frey children. Her eyes bore deep into Aemon Rivers forcing him to look away. Whether he was the father of her son or not, she didn't care, he and Walder were both Freys and that made her son a Frey and rightful heir of the Twins and the Riverlandds.

* * *

Jane helped the youngest of her ladies with her sewing.

"Your Majesty."

"Yes lady Rochford?"

"Lady Hertford, your sister in law, is here to see you."

"Send her in. Ladies, you are dismissed. Close the doors behind us lady Rochford."

Lady Rochford nodded and left her mistress and sister in law alone. In spite of her commands, she remained outside her chambers, listening to their every word.

"Lady Hertford, sister. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You bloody well know what." Anne hissed and pointed to her stomach. "How does it feel? I carry your lover's seed inside me. I will give him a son, a trueborn son."

"And then what?" Jane asked calmly with an open smile. "He will leave me for you?"

"Yes! He is my husband, you whore. I married him, I bedded him first, I know him more than you ever will. I will provide him with a legitimate heir that will take his mind off of you."

"Is that it?" She asked and when Anne didn't respond and instead scowled, Jane went to pour wine on two empty cups. She offered one to Anne but she didn't take it. "It's not wise to refuse your queen. Here, drink. No? Well, more for me then."

She sat on a cushioned chair and stared at her sister in law. The woman's sharp glance made Jane somewhat nervous. She composed herself remembering her brother's words and added, "I understand your pain lady Hertford, believe me I do. It's not easy living with Edward. Growing up it was always hard. Mother said that he was the only child who didn't laugh, except when he was with me and Thomas. He always had trouble showing his feelings, his first wife was a whore you see and you no better. It was just easy to harden his heart to avoid the pain."

"I loved him." Anne said fiercely. She was enamoured by Edward Seymour the moment she laid eyes on him. Tall, fair haired, blue eyed. He was so handsome and he was hers, but on their wedding night she discovered how stiff he was. Almost repulsed by her, he did what he did and finished up quickly. No emotions, no love. Nothing. She tried loving her brother but it was impossible when the only things he cared for were money and power.

Hearing this, Jane's heart went out to her. She understood the woman, being in the same plight, but she could not soften her heart for her. Edward was her brother and the only person that ever cared for her. An insult to him was an insult to her.

"You did. You loved him. You don't love him now, he loves me" Anne interrupted her.

"He loves you honey because you look like him. You are a cheap version of Edward. Ha!" She wrung her hands in the air. "Edward loves only himself, he doesn't love you or me. He loves himself." She re-emphasized.

Jane burst out laughing, her sweet laughter sent chills down Anne's spine as she walked towards Anne. Her eyes cold and hard.

"Edward is my big brother. I grew up with him. Before my father started whoring, we were his favorites until Thomas came then he displaced us in our father's affections but even then we were always close and our mother always made sure we slept in the same bed so we never stopped trusting each other. Thomas, my poor brother," she gave a sad smile, reminiscing of the golden years, then her face turned hard when she remembered what Henry said. The manner in which they killed him. He was her brother, her little brother. Like Edward he always protected her when she should have been the one protecting him. Her oldest son was named for him and Edward said he reminded him of their brother. "Never understood. I grew closer to Thomas as Edward moved out of the house. He was so eager to make a name for himself. We grew apart after he came but then when the king started to notice me we remembered how close we were and we understood, if we wanted to survive in this court, we had to stick together. You see _sister_, Edward and I are not just brother and sister, we are one half of each other. Our mother used to say we could've been twins if we weren't two years apart."

Anne looked disgustedly at queen Jane. "You were fucking him then and your mother approved."

Jane laughed more loudly. "Good gracious no! Our mother would have tanned our hides if she had known. She just wanted us to be together like a family. We were represented a happier time in her marriage, naturally she wanted the two eldest children of the Seymour family to be together." One hand was raised to her swollen belly. "I have the fruit of his love right here. Whether it is me he loves or he is with me for vanity, I am the one carrying his seed and it will be my offspring he'll love." She took another sip from her goblet.

In all her years Anne had never been before another woman more disgusting and lecherous than her. _There is a first time for everything,_ Anne thought. Amused that Edward could be attracted to this whore. Then again Edward loved nothing more but power and himself, it was no wonder then why as she told Jane, he was enamoured with his sister of all people. She was his mirror image, the female version of Edward.

"You won't get away with this, when the king finds out-"

"The king won't find out because he will be too busy fucking Ursula Misseldon or every other whore in London. I've heard he's turned his eye to mistress Howard now. I find that very good."

"You ..."

"What?" Jane asked, her eyes piercing Anne's. "Bitch? Cruel? Is that what you wish to call me? Please do so, coming from the mouth of a whore, I consider the words a compliment."

Anne swallowed. She wanted to raise her fist at this woman but she was at a crossroads. Edward had showed her true passion when she took advantage of him when he was sick and she pretended to be his unknown lover. He'd shown her that he was a sexual being capable of love and giving pleasure. She wanted him, his masculine presence in her bed, taking her and screaming her name as he screamed _hers._

Not even the whore had gone to these lengths. Just who was this woman?

Anne said in a crispy tone. "When I deliver his son he will be back in my arms and will forget about you. Enjoy your last nights with him." Then she left the queen's chambers.

* * *

"Your Majesty." SerKevanLannister gave a low curtsy before the queen of England.

"SerKevan. To what do we owe this pleasure?" Jane asked politely.

Kevan smiled, remembering when Cersei was no older than her and used to hold her children like that. He sighed inwardly. War, rumors, Jaime's lost hands and so many other factors that contributed to his niece's decline. She had been transformed from a happy woman, a woman whose life revolved solely around her children to a woman who was embittered, angry, and sad all the time.

He hoped for the lovely queen's sake that she didn't follow his niece's path. He told his grand-nephew, the king, had entrusted him with a letter, that he was to give to her and only to her. He thrust it in her free hand.

She gave her youngest son Edward to his nurse then returned her attention to the letter. She tore open the seal and began to read. Her face was blank. "I-I don't understand … the king agreed…"

"That he did but many things have happened and well, the queen, my niece, believes that a marriage to your stepdaughter complicates things."

She fell on her chair putting a hand over her swollen stomach. She felt the child inside her kick furiously as it sensed its mother's anger.

"I am sorry Your Majesty but with your daughter labeled a bastard it would give prince Tommen a poor reputation and understand these are difficult times. My brother's son has just returned from captivity and there is a lot of rebellion we face in the North."

"But the queen promised!"

"She did but the small council disagreed, they said that with all the accusations against her and her children, it would look worse for the royal family if they married the next in line to the Iron throne to a bastard. Their words not mine. I and Cersei both tried to convince the council but as you probably know by experience, the council is always filled with disagreements."

Jane nodded. Pushing two fingers to her mouth she looked down. If her next child was a daughter then they could marry her to prince Tommen. Anyone but her. She turned to see her daughter's squeals of laughter as she was raised in the air by her father, the king, who just entered the nursery.

"My sweet pearl!" He screamed twirling her in the air then kissing her hair. Her strawberry blond hair. As the girl grew, Jane's features faded more and more to give way to Henry's.

Jane hated her. It was a sad thing to say about one's child but it was the truth. There was little of her in Janey. Janey was her father's daughter and it angered her that she had replaced the rightful princess and pearl of Henry's court. Princess Mary.

"SerKevan, sweetheart. Has he told you the news?" Jane nodded, smiling to hide her anger. Her eyes pierced Janey's dark grey.

She had to bare reading letter after letter that Cromwell gave her about Mary's torture with Frey, now she had to stand here and be told that Henry's bastard, her bastard, would be princess twice over and one step closer to the Iron Throne.

"Yes, SerKevan was telling me how your precious pearl will be princess of the seven kingdoms. It is a great honor, I am very pleased with the news SerKevan." Jane told Kevan calmly changing her tune at once.

Kevan raised an eyebrow. This was a queen to be feared. She could change her emotions from one minute to the next, and he was not even sure what he was thinking and he was fairly good at reading people. Not as good as his brother but fairly good. He gently took the letter from the queen's hands and gave it to His Majesty.

Henry waved it away saying there was no need for it and that this should be discussed in private "away from the ears of women." He said. "I am sure you won't mind, will you sweetheart, if I take our daughter with me?"

"Of course not. It is my pleasure to see father and daughter so close." Jane said with a forced smile that only Kevan Saw through.

"Your Majesty." Kevan inclined his head and together with the king and his daughter, left the room.

Jane returned to her wifely duties. Meeting her ladies, attending the queen's council, and settling disputes between her women. It was all very boring. She longed to be with her children, especially Edward. He was very receptive to her embraces and her brother's as well. Thomas was too attached to Henry, he thought of him as his real father and always looked down on Ned.

Elizabeth sighed as she went over her sewing. Jane helped her. She was a master at it and she liked having Elizabeth around. Mary, she was an angel but she was too rebellious and hated everything that she said was too 'useless.' She often thought about her eldest stepdaughter. She was not made to be a wife, she was always very independent, loyal, fierce, and rebellious.  
What Henry had done sending her to Frey had been a grave injustice.

"I am sorry that you could not be princess."

Elizabeth smiled. "It doesn't matter Jane. I am happy with whatever my father arranges for me. It was simply not to be."

Jane smiled in return, admiring her daughter's resilience. She hoped this little one would be just as.

* * *

The cross burned in his chest. The day was hotter than any other. Ambassador Chapuys had briefly left for Annency then to Antwerp then returned again to England. He had a powerful rival now in Charles de Marillac, the French ambassador.

"Excellency" Jane greeted the imperial ambassador on his arrival. He met with the king then the queen. Since she'd given him not one but two sons, everyone sought her presence first.

It was becoming well known in Europe and Westeros that if everyone wanted to get anywhere with Henry VIII, you had to pass through his queens first, in this case his current queen Jane Seymour.

He thought of her as current because who knows how fast the king's affection for her could last. His affections for Catherine of Aragon had been long and prosperous until her last miscarriage, when it was apparent she could not have children anymore, and his kingdom would be left in the hands of a woman. England still remembered the wars of the roses, the wounds that conflict had left was still fresh and many that had fought during that time still lived and didn't want to see another civil war. For that reason they supported Henry in his endless quest to remarry.

The first attempt was disastrous and the second would've been too had Jane Seymour not given birth to her salvation. The two princes.

"Your Majesty."

"We are happy to see you again. Bess show the ambassador our gift."

Bess nodded and walked forward bearing a bouquet of flowers. Red and white roses, and a small golden chest with the Tudor crest. The white greyhound and the red dragon. He gave the bouquet to his Fleming servant and opened the chest. Inside was a golden ring with the Tudor rose and below a note.

_Yours truly the lady Mary of Frey._

Eustace smiled a small smile. It had been nearly two years since he had her. Since then many things had happened. He'd been recalled to the imperial court then moved back to his ancestral home in Annency, then back to Antwerp where he liked it best for it being a merchant town and one of the most cosmopolitan and beautiful cities in Europe. And now he was back in England.

He missed the princess' presence. She always made things better. He thanked Her Majesty and the lady Elizabeth and returned to his quarters.

Poor sweet lady. Lady Mary had sent some letters to him which were always delivered by one of the lesser Frey stewards. He was very recognizable for his green simple clothings, though the fabric was expensive, and wearing that god awful green cap.

All her letters pleaded to him for guidance. She was slowly losing her faith in god, in humanity, in everyone. She wanted a way out and she confessed that if it wasn't for her child she would've thrown herself from the castle.

_That boy -_she wrote -_is my everything. Without him I'd have no reason to live._

Eustace smiled. Queen Catherine always said his daughter was meant to be a mother. He always knew she would make a good mother yet Eustace believed her true destiny lay elsewhere but she was forever lost now thanks to her father.

_Perhaps not._ An idea sprung in his head. What if the child would marry the queen's daughter, princess Janey? He knew the queen for some reason hated her daughter. Perhaps it was because she was a daughter and a reminder of how close she'd come to ending like her predecessors. Either way, it was clear her hatred for her daughter extended in such a way that she didn't want her to wed prince Tommen. She would be much happier if she married a minor lord. Princess Mary's son could not hope to inherit the Twins, he'd have to walk over more than one hundred coffins to do so, but he could easily come to England and by the time he was of age to marry princess Jane, her husband would be dead and she could come back.

What a great idea. He marvelled at his genius. Now the only thing he needed was to convince the king, but for that he had to go first to queen and the queen's brother.

* * *

It was not hard convincing Jane, she hated the idea of her daughter being closer to the Iron Throne than anyone else. It was rumored that the Tyrells, the ambitious family from Westeros, were not happy with this. The queen of thorns sent a lengthy letter to Henry, chastising him for something so foolish to which Henry replied that powerful as they were, he was master in his own realm and his wealth outmatch theirs, and could do whatever he wanted.

Along with Henry who remained unconvinced of marrying his daughter to his grandson, was her brother Edward. He outright said no.

"What do you mean no?"

"No. Jane you heard me and it will continue to be no." Edward said when they were alone. Jane took his face and brought it down to hers.

"Are you certain?"

"Jane not now."

"It's been five days." Jane said feeling his lips on hers. It didn't take him long to respond.

"Jane stop ..." His words died as their tongues met and her hands went inside his doublet and chemise. He pulled away and looked at her like a hungry animal. "When does your husband come from his hunt?"

"Not for another two hours, he took an entire party with him."

"Good." Edward said taking her in his arms and thumping her on the bed. Her stomach was too big, being in the last stages of her pregnancy. Edward was the only man besides the physician that was allowed during her confinement. The king trusted him that much.

In spite of its roundness, it did not prevent them from having pleasure. It enhanced it really. They were always curious about other positions, other movements that they'd only heard from the other men when they boasted of their latest conquests.

"Jane." He said after they were done. With a great effort he raised himself from bed, walked over to his clothes, and began dressing. "This does not change anything."

"I thought you'd say that." Jane said spreading her legs.

"God if father could see us now." She said closing them after he turned away. She gave a merry chuckle. "He'd be proud of you. He'd say 'now I know you are my son, a true Seymour through and through' 'Look at you boy, you've bedded your first whore.'"

"No." Edward spun around, fully clothed. "He'd say 'you are an embarrassment, you couldn't bed a whore so you bedded your sister.' To which I'd reply: 'I just didn't bed my sister, I bedded the most beautiful girl in England and I'd gladly do so again.'" He leaned down and kissed her.

She moaned when their lips parted. "I have to go but I promise I will come back."

"Will you think on it at least?" Jane shouted as he made his way to the door. "I will deny you my bed if you do."

He looked behind his shoulder. He flashed her a grin. "No, you won't." He said and closed the doors behind him.

Jane took her gown from the floor and put it on. She hated being away from court, from her brother, and her children.

She heard Henry's laughter outside her window. Sometimes she wondered if she never married him. Wouldn't she'd be happier? She'd marry Dormer just like her parents dreamed of but then ... she and Edward would never be.

Perhaps we would. Deep down she knew their paths would always cross. She and Edward were the same, deep down even though she didn't make her ambitions as obvious, they were just the same as her brother's.

Until she was five she never uttered a word. Then Thomas was born and it was hard to ignore him, he was always either crying or laughing. He was such a jolly little fellow. Jane fell in love with him at sight. Edward was jealous, he thought of her love for Thomas as a betrayal but she assured him that she loved him just the same.

When Edward returned from France he brought her presents, and when he saw her with Thomas he took her hand and took her to his room where he told her all about the king's enterprise and how the Duke of Suffolk had ennobled him along with other young men.

Even then he desired her, but he was a prude. He believed zealously in his faith. After he'd abandoned their parents faith for the new faith, he believed that every man and woman must lead a strict moral life. Anything that was outside this line of thoughts was a sin and an abomination.

Poor Edward. For ten years he resisted his urges and she did as well. He would be in her dreams and she would wake up sweating, praying to the Lord for any remedy. She thought she'd be cured when she married the king. After all, there was no more handsomest man than he.

But her dreams had shattered as soon as her brother had set his eye on the widow Latimer and so did her husband. Thomas always an independent thinker and unwilling to bend the knee to anyone or anything, married her despite the king's protest and his offer of as much gold as he wanted.

He loved her and Jane wished him the best. But Henry not happy with his toy being stolen, sent him and his wife to Edmure Tully's wedding knowing very well what would happen to his family. He wanted her little brother to share their fate and for his wife to miscarry so in her grief she would be driven into his arms.

God, what a fool she'd been in! If only she had the experience she had know, she would've never let her brother go, she would've never given him her blessing to marry the lady Latimer.

But it was all part of the past now. She was Henry's undisputed queen, his crowned, anointed queen and with two male heirs in the Tudor cradle and another in the way, nobody would dethrone her as they did Catherine and Anne.

She thought lovingly of her children. They were the only things that made her life bearable, that and Edward. She hoped this next one would be a boy, but she would be happy if it was a girl. She would name her Margery or Margery Elizabeth Mary after her mother and her two stepdaughters.


	12. Chapter 12

Mary greeted her stepson, big Walder he was called just as first Walder, Walder the heir, Walder the great, and much more. Mary smirked mentally at this poor excuse of a man. Just like the rest -she thought. You will burn.

She could not wait to see their faces twisting in pain as the flames consumed them. Everyone had mocked her mother for being too weak to act. She proved that she was not Isabel's daughter but rather some ninny's, Mary would not make the same mistake. She would show them she was not just Mary Tudor, daughter of a ruthless monarch but also Mary of the house Tratasmara, granddaughter of the greatest kings that ever lived.

She retired to her chambers after the ceremony ended. Her stepson celebrated his birthday, he was old enough to be her grandfather and he had eyed her with interest, just as every other male in her husband's house. They all knew her claim was valuable, in spite of her three brothers, Thomas, Edward, and Owen. She was still in the line of succession and anything could happen from now to twenty years.

After all, Elizabeth Woodville's sons, three of them had perished during their takeover attempt; it was not hard to imagine that something could happen to her brothers and Mary, left as the heir, would become queen. Which would make Walder Frey king.

Knowing him, he would use her as a puppet queen so he could rule.

Mary was not going to let that happen. Her brothers, in spite of being only her half brothers, were her kin. She would never dare usurp them for her husband's sake, or anyone's.

She looked besides her at her youngest child. Two children. Two beautiful children with her dark gray eyes. She pondered what future they would have. Would they love her, hate her? Would they grow to be the same monster as their father?

She lifted her youngest and pushed her chemise down so he would feed from her. "I hope you don't turn like your father." Whoever he is.

She'd lost count of the many times Walder Frey and his bastard grandson, Aemon Rivers, had come into her chambers to rape her. There were times when she saw similarities between her sons and Aemon, other times when she'd see Walder in them.

She hoped she would never have to come to a decision where she would sacrifice her two little boys for ambition's sake. Like her father had done.

"You smile at me now. But someday you will hate me. You will think me cruel, you will even call me names and turn against me but I will still love you." _Because deep down I can't help it. I, as my mother and queen Jane, am a woman trapped by her love to her children._

* * *

Philip closed his eyes. He dreamed of Mary, standing next to her were two boys that looked so much like her but their features were very different. Their faces were angular in contrast to her heart shaped face and their eyes were of a different shape. He looked down at these boys with a sad expression on his face. These were Walder Frey's boys.

He got closer to her and rested his hand on her cheek. At once flames began to appear and they jumped in fright.

"Mary!"

"Philip?" She screamed looking at her surroundings, screaming the names of her children who were taken from her by mysterious forces. "Philip where are you? Why don't you come to me?"

"Mary I've tried, you have to jump love!"

"Philip!"

"Mary jump, I will catch you."

"I can't it's too hot. I will get burned."

"No. You won't. I promise I will catch you."

"Philip I ... I thought you abandoned me. My father said you left." She got down to her knees, she began to cry. Her tears were the color of blood.

He got closer to the flames, unafraid and knelt before her and stretched his hand, ignoring the pain. "I won't leave you this time. Take my hand. I promise." He said.

Mary stretched her hand and took his and at once the flames vanished and the sun came up and his wounds had healed.

Philip pulled her to an embrace then drew his lips to hers. "I've missed you."

He opened his eyes and saw a vision of horror. She was covered in blood, her throat slit and her face burned.

He woke up and drew up his knife. There was nothing around him but emptiness. The camp was completely silent, that only thing that could be heard was the loud breathing from Daenerys Stormborn of house Targaryen's breathing.

He panted. It had seem so real. She had been there one moment, beautiful, young, just as he remembered her, then she wasn't. She had become a vision of horror. He couldn't even describe her. She was like one the fates that foretold of the Greek myths that foretold the Greek heroes' demise.

Was this a sign of god that their mission was doom?

Philip went back to sleep, trying to clear all doubts from his mind. He had sworn he would defend Mary to the death; he had abandoned her once and paid dearly for that.

With this in mind, he let Morpheus claim him.

* * *

His cousin sent one of his ambassadors to England to propose an alliance. The king sent him packing. He was not interested in an alliance with Cleves, despite what his brother in law, the newly invested, Duke of Somerset and Earl of Hertford said.

They had always done well with Cleves. What important was Cleves anyway? It was just a small state of no importance besides its trade. They could get that from Spain or France.

Jane was seething when she found her husband had repudiated the Duke of Cleves' messenger. Anne Stanhope hid a smile. She yelled at her ladies and told them to get out. The queen who was usually calm and moderate, surprised everyone with her outburst but not wanting to be victims of her anger, they obeyed and fled her chambers at once.

Only Anne and her ever faithful, lady Rochford were left.

"Trouble in paradise?" Anne said with a smirk, boasting the new jewel His Majesty had given her.

Jane glared at her. Since she'd become Henry's mistress she had taken every opportunity to talk back on her. Jane would not put up with it, she would take every chance to humiliate her and remark on her lack of her children and how all her children, including the one she was going to give Edward, died and she was left barren.

In response Anne had taken the one thing that Jane had that truly belonged to her husband, her eldest child, princess Jane Margery, named after her and her mother.

Jane walked to her and slapped her. The slap was so hard Anne fell to the floor. Instead of showing hurt, she showed every inch of dignity she'd once lacked.

"Get out! Get out before I hurt you more."

"And why should I, Your Majesty?" She asked in a mocking tone. "Your lord husband did what we all thought was wise. Cleves is after all a small state, what he gets out of Cleves, he can get tenfold from any other country."

Jane was about to retort when something crossed her mind and she burst out laughing.

Anne cocked her head. _Has she lost her mind?_

"Oh, you are funny lady Somerset, you know that? Very funny. But you forget that while you have His Majesty's cock I have his title and it will be me who will be ruling this country next to your husband after he dies or do you forget that your usefulness will not be for long?"

"Things might change Madame. And you are wrong, the king still forces himself on you, while you rump with Edward. He still has power over you."

"Things change." Jane Seymour said back, using her sister in law's words against her. "How old were you?"

"What?"

"How old were you lady Somerset when you lost your father? How old? Four, five, six? Must've been hard, I heard your stepfather couldn't wait to marry you to my coldfish of a brother. It must have been terrible for you. One thing is to be married to a man who abuses you, another is to be married to a man who is cold and so detached like my brother."

"He is not detached." Anne said._ If anyone has made him so, it's you._

All those years she'd been trying to warm Edward's heart, it was because of this bitch that he never responded to her touch. She hated her, if Anne would have it, she would personally hold the dagger to Jane's neck and make Edward watch as she did both of them justice.

God knows the world would be better if Jane Seymour was dead. She brought nothing but trouble. She made herself the victim, and it was a role she played so well, that everyone called her the 'good queen' and the 'peacemaker' but one good look at those blue eyes of hers and you would see nothing more than a cold, merciless woman who would do anything for ambition's sake.

Edward was never an ambitions man. Everything he did, he did it for the sake of family. So he said. In truth, he did it for her.

"For a woman who's been in every bed in London you are very naive. Edward doesn't love any of us, don't you remember what you said? He loves himself, he loves power and of course he loves me but that's because I am a part of him."

"Edward will never love you; when you grow too old and your beauty fades he will leave you. He is just like any other man."

"I will always be his first priority."

Anne shook her head. She refused to believe it and be intimidated by this woman. Seeing her in this light, her hair did not appear so golden and her skin did not appear the magnificent fair skin that Edward always boasted to her on purpose when they were alone. She was nothing more than another dastardly queen, another queen who'd grown resentful and bitter by her husband's treatment of her.

Anne made a mock curtsy then left, clutching her cheek when she reached hers and Edward's chambers. Damn that woman knew how to hit her. She had everyone eating from her finger, except her husband and Jane blamed him for that.

Unlike his previous wives who turned against other women, Jane turned against her husband and his women. To her they were all the same. Vultures who took every opportunity they had to eat off her flesh. She loved Henry ... once. Just like Anne, just like Katherine, just like Mary Boleyn, and every other women that had been with him. She loved him and imagined a life with him would be like a fairy tale. She never expected fidelity from him. She knew what he was, she knew what she was getting into, but she told herself that unlike the rest of his women he would lover and he would make her his queen of hearts when he gave him a son.

What a fool she was.

Jane slid her hands to her stomach. She carried a son in her, Henry's son. She hadn't told Edward yet because she was afraid how he would react. Ever since he saw Henry's abuse of her, he had become overprotective. He hated the idea of carrying Henry's child just as much as he did.

She had just delivered Owen. Henry had been so overjoyed, he considered his dynasty blessed. But as with every child, he left them to the care of their nurses and governesses. It was a miracle she convinced him to keep her children close to her. They were the only thing that made her life tolerable.

* * *

Edward found out the following month when she could no longer keep it a secret. "How long?"

"One month and a half."

"And you've kept it secret from me."

"What else could I do? Tell my husband?" She grinned, shaking her head. "He would not have hesitated to tell the whole world. Just the thought of it growing inside of me ..." She looked away.

Ned sat next to her and cupped her face, turning it to him. "Look at me Jane. I love you. You do not have to bear this burden." He said kissing her lips softly.

"The physician you paid said it was too late to abort."

"No it's not. There are women who knows of other ways to solve this."

"I don't know ..." He stopped her in mid sentence with another kiss.

"Jane we must get rid of this. If you give Henry a son there will be many who will start questioning our sons' rights. What if he looks like Henry? Have you thought about that?"

Jane nodded. Of course she did. They would start whispering against her, and knowing Henry he'd either divorce her but keep their son legitimate, making him the prince of wales, stripping his eldest brother of his lands and titles, or worse, kill her and make him prince of Wales anyway.

In the end, they decided to go along with Edward's plan.

"This will be for the best I promise." He said kissing her one last time before he got into her bed, and embraced her.

The following morrow one of Edward's spies brought her the herbs to make the herbal drink. Just one sip, she said, and it would all be over.

* * *

Philip got in touch with his cousin, the Duke of Cleves and together they formed a secret alliance to get rid of the Lannisters, take back the seven kingdoms and return it to its rightful ruler, Daenerys Targaryen.

It was not hard at first. The hard part was getting support from the North, but after they showed the true Arya and not the impostor the Lannisters had sent to marry Roose' bastard son, Ramsay Bolton, they joined the dragon's banner and overthrew the Boltons.

Robb got back his kingdom and everyone in the North swore fealty to him, his sisters, and his new queen.

The only family that was left were the Freys. Philip longed to see their faces when they discovered that everything and everyone they stood for was gone, burned to the ground as the new Targaryen queen and kings promised it would.

Jon Snow, who had recently discovered his heritage as the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, joined his half sibling, Aegon and their aunt, Daenerys in taking back the Iron throne. They agreed with Robb Stark, that it was time to take revenge against their last enemies.

* * *

"Don't you ever get tired of it?" The ambassador from Cleves asked the lady Mary. He arrived at midday in late autumn. Unlike England, Walder Frey was receptive to the idea of an alliance with Cleves.

Mary raised her eyes and smiled a courtly smile. "Every day" She said and drank from her jewelled cup.

"The Duke of Cleves, His Grace William wishes for an alliance. Frey's oldest grandson would be a suitable match for his Amelia. I am told you've met her."

Mary raised her eyes once again. There was something hidden in his voice, something that spoke of a secret message. A secret hope. "I have." She decided her next words carefully, knowing that each of her servants were on her husband's payroll. "She and I exchanged some letters during my time in England. It was often discussed that if the queen failed to give my father a son. Good thing she did not. England has fared better under her than under any other queen."

"My lady chooses her words carefully."

"I speak the truth and how I see it my lord." She said, and a knowing smile passed between them.

"Madame, what do you remember, coming to the matter at hand, of the lady Amelia of Cleves?"

Mary seemed to be in deep thought but the young man disguised as a simple servant, knew better. She blinked as if in confusion. "I seem to recall she had dimples. My lord father hates dimples, it's why he turned so many seasoned girls, they were all young enough to be his granddaughter."

"Ha-ha" the ambassador laughed. "Very true, but the lady Amelia has matured since then. She is called a beauty by many and very much admired. If she wasn't a woman, she would make a worthy prince."

Mary's lips twisted. She savored the gravy on her chicken. No matter how much she ate, she never grew "Thank you for the feast, my lord misses a good feast. This war has been a nuisance on us all. I have to ask where did you get such fine chicken. Almost every chicken has been sacrificed by those crazy bannermen."

"Crazy rebels." She added as she took another piece of chicken with her golden fork.

"My husband has been too good in his mercy. He refused to punish them, as he should have. The more he forgives them, the more these rebels are allowed to do as they pleased."

"Your lord husband salvation, I hear they call it. What a magnificent man lord Walder is." The ambassador is with another knowing smile. After they finished their meal, they smiled at each other and Mary commanded him to walk with her to the heart.

"Magnificent structure. I've heard the wild tales that a thousand men once laid siege inside and all of them perished."

"True," Mary said. Her next words were filled with bitterness. "Then there is also the myth that those thousand men would have succeeded had it not been that there was a mole in their operation."

"Would have doesn't get you anyone anywhere, we can't ponder on long lost dreams." The ambassador spun around and spun around, paced back and forth and looked at the place. "Aye, an impressive sight but it has one weakness."

"What do you mean?" Mary asked, her voice hopeful though her expression was neutral. She learned to master her emotions a long time ago since she was a teenager at Hatfield, Hackney and all the other palaces her father had sent her to serve her new sister, the then princess Elizabeth.

"Three windows above you, that place where your son sleeps and so does the lady Roslin Tully's child. That window has stained glass, I suspect your doing." He stared into her eyes. "If my lady wishes to show me your rooms, the lady Amelia wishes to pay tribute to your beauty, anything that can get her in lord Walder Frey's good graces."

"Of course." Mary said and led him to her chambers, as usual, her ladies were with her. All her husband's whores and daughters. The daughters she could tolerate, foul and ugly creatures, she'd dealt with worse but the whores was another matter entirely. They wasted no time reminding her that her son would never be lord and Walder Frey only sought her bed for sport and enjoyment because she made him feel young and if he wanted he would give her to his other bastard grandsons who'd be eager to fuck her as Aemon Rivers.

Mary said nothing. She was her mother's daughter and Jane Seymour's advice still rang in her mind. No matter how many times she was humiliated, she would get her revenge because in the end, she was Mary Tudor, the king of England's eldest daughter and her mother's daughter.

As Catherine of Aragon's daughter led the ambassador Gantz to her chambers, she showed him her cross which had a perfectly sculpted image of their lord and savior Jesus Christ in gold.

"Impressive, it must have cost you a fortune, I am surprised that lord Walder Frey allowed you, lady Amelia worries that she might not be well received being as she is strictly orthodox as her brother."

"She's defied the highest authority hasn't she?" Mary said, a bit too loudly so her ladies would hear and report to her lord husband that there had been nothing suspicious in their conversation. "Defying the pope is one thing but defying the Holy Roman Emperor, my cousin, now that is another. He may forgive grievous offenses my dear Charles, but others cannot I assure you."

"My lady, the lady Amelia regrets nothing and she speaks for her lord and brother, she could do nothing but obey his commands. A good sister does so."

The ladies behind her nodded and they noted one of them turning to leave. Mary turned her head back at him and smiled, he didn't since he was being watched by the harpies behind her.

"I cannot promise not to open my husband to the idea of this girl."

"The lady Amelia is no mere _girl. _She has the blood of kings and queens running through her veins and her brother is a Duke and lord in his own right."

"I am well aware of that." Almost like a king, she wanted to say. The king of our North. But that would be too much. "If you must then, discuss the option with my husband, I assure you the answer will be the same." Mary said with disinterest and spun to meet one of her stepdaughter's eyes. "Show this man to the nursery so he can see there is enough children in this family to make an army. We need have no more and his eldest grandson is years older than lady Amelia."

"With all due respect my lady," The ambassador said smoothly, giving her a mischievous smile as he linked his arm into one of lord Walder Frey's older and _charming _daughters, "My lord is very confident in his sibling,_ he _knows that German blood is thicker than blood and water and that she will give your lord husband's eldest grandson what he deserves."

"Go with god ambassador and good luck, you will need it." Mary said lastly and watched him leave with her older stepdaughter.

Mary dined with Walder Frey and the rest of his family sitting at the top table next to him, between him and Aemon Rivers. The ambassador had left, unlike with her, he fared better with Frey. He vowed to open the doors to his castle to his eldest grandson and second in line to the Twins, new bride.

Mary smiled as she was told this, though it was a willful smile he believed since his wife rarely smiled and when she did, it was because something bad befell his family. As of late they'd been having trouble with the brotherhood of the lost banners. He was going to execute all of its members, the ones his bastard grandson caught when Mary intervened and told him he'd gained less opposition if he showed mercy. He gruffly accepted, it took much convincing and fake smiles on her part but he relented in the end.

She gave a reassuring smile to the ambassador seated below in one of the finer tables. They shared a glance together, time seemed to stop.

After all this time. She thought. He was not dead. He had been here, waiting for her. Now the time had come. It was only a matter of time before he and the king of the North came as well.

The Duke of Cleves left the castle that day with his personal servant. Nobody had questioned his motives for riding south. He'd done this many times. He and his sisters would always dress in each other's clothes to fool everyone. That was one thing that the Cleves dynasty had, that they could easily change their guise since their faces were neither gentle, humble, nor aristocratic. They could be anyone and because their little island was often so ignored by the major powers in Europe (except when it came to the subject of trade. Then everyone would be begging them to take their side. Ha! Foolish kingdoms with their kings and their factions! William was proud to be separated from them), they could go wherever they wished and nobody noticed.

William dismounted from his horse and greeted his cousin.

"Cousin!" He opened his arms to Philip.

They embraced each other. "It's been a long time William."

They sighed and nodded.

"Look at you, all poor, I never thought I'd see you like this. Imagine the stories I will tell my mother."

William's face fell.

"What's wrong?"

His face alone answered him and Philip looked down at his boots. "God. When did this happen?" He asked looking up at him again.

"Last winter, months after you left. It's been one year Philip. One long year."

Philip nodded. It had been. One long year where he had not seen his family and the only news he received from them, from any of them, were through letters. He communicated constantly through his family's secret network of spies. Many of which belonged to the brotherhood of broken and lost banners. Most members of his family were Lutherans and Calvinists after all, and while they did not believe in the red god, they believed in a faith that was just as strict and restrictive. Naturally they sought the aid of these rebels. Another reason why they worked in secrecy was because they didn't trust the major players. Varys, the European neighbors and their network of spies. They didn't trust them. Today they favored them, but what about tomorrow?

Their motto was clear: Everyone who isn't us is an enemy. And Philip had been through many courts, been through every part of the world, the new world, the old and Westeros and beyond, to know that nobody could be trusted.

Seeing the painful look that crossed his cousin's face William changed subjects, "The mother of dragons. Is it true that she has married twice?"

"Married widowed and married again and not widowed this time."

"How many times does this make it?" William asked with a raised eyebrow as he looked to her tent. In three larger tent behind them were the shadows of three mighty beasts. The thing of legends. William had never believed in dragons, he thought they were just the product of imagination, made to scare little kids into getting them into bed early but here was proof that these monsters existed. He shuddered.

"Is it true what they say?" He asked. "That she killed her first husband?"

"No, she was too naïve to do anything. A witch killed him after she tricked her, however she proved to be the world's undoing because she unknowingly let these three creatures loose."

"Four you mean. If it's true that she cannot be burned by fire. Is it?" He looked straight into Philip's blue-green eyes.

Philip nodded.

"By God! Have mercy on us all!" William said in their native tongue.

Philip chuckled and slapped his brother's back. "She is no danger to us I can vouch for that."

"I will take your word for it." William said. His cousin had ridden with this woman, he knew her well enough. (Or at least he hoped he did.)

God only knew what the fate of Westeros, the fate of the world, would be if this woman was as crazy as her ancestors.

"Do you want to see her?" Philip asked with a wider grin, laughing harder when his cousin shook his head vigorously.

"I am content to be the spectator." Was all he said then he switched subjects to a more pleasant topic. "Lord Walder Frey has agreed to open his gates to my sister. Do not worry she will not be traveling here but the eunuch I am afraid has spies and if his plan changes-"

"Then we are fucked." Philip said crudely. "Send Anne instead, they are very alike, you'll only have to tell her to fake her accent, Amelia has a thicker one than her but on appearance they could be twins. All of you could."

"I am not sure Anne is up for the task. My sister can barely act and she is not that smart."

"Would you rather it was Sybilla then?"

"Goodness no!" William said doing a dramatic gesture. "She hates being away from her oaf husband and do you really see Sybille in muddy lands and not complaining about bugs and god knows what other thing?"

Philip laughed, nodding. "So it will be Anne then." William looked unsure, he wobbled his head. "Oh come on William, she's not your little sister anymore and Anne possesses a secret strength. You just haven't noticed it yet. Let her come, they will open their doors for us, then we will storm the castle and free our beloved lady."

William shook his head playfully. "You've been in love with her for a good time. Haven' you had another wench, I mean I would if I was traveling with the mother of dragons. Must have been hard."

"No, not at all." Philip said. "Daenerys Stormborn is fierce but she respects her commanders and while we waited for her dragons to reach their full stage, me, Robb, the commander of her Queensguard, and Ser Jorah Mormont did most of the fighting for her."

"What about the imp? He must be looking for blood. I know I would, even if my wife was a pretty little wench like Sansa Stark, I would kill her, make her suffer first for abandoning me at my time of need."

"He, he, you have him all wrong my friend. Tyrion Lannister is not like that and history will not remember that he was ever married to lady Stark. She and lord Commander of the Night's Watch have joined us, together we will change this country for the better."

"Once again the dreamer," he wrung his hands in the air and spoke before he voiced protest. "But I suppose we must all believe in our own lies once in a while. If that's what you want to believe, fine by me but don't be so trusting of your future bride. She has a lot of resentment in her Philip, I don't think you will be winning her anytime soon."

"Leave the subtleties to me. You and Anne worry about the rest."

"But what if the doors close before you can?" William asked worriedly. They would be killed and the rest of Germany, the duchies, the countries would go to war and what then? The empire would squash them and its emperor would make himself absolute ruler. He could not run that risk!

"They won't. Trust me. Once doors close they will open again." Philip said with a wink.

William cocked his head but decided not to ask any further. Whatever secret plans Philip had, he'd rather not know.

* * *

Mary had prayed for this day since her wedding to lord Frey. She always believed her father's version of events, but now things had changed and for the better. Today she would have her revenge.

God give me strength. She said to her Lord, praying before the golden cross she had fashioned out of her jewels. It was her mother's faith, the only thing she had of her, that gave her strength and reminded her of who she was.

"Today" She vowed. "I will kill every Frey and slice their throats, one by one." She swore and rose to her feet hearing the footsteps of her husband.

He mocked her deep devotion to a god he said was a ninny. _True gods don't let themselves be crucified. No wonder why you Christians are so miserable, you worship a coward instead of a fighter._ His comments now were no different, just tiny variations but the message was all the same. Every Christian was a coward.

They walked to the high table. William, the Duke of Cleves masquerading himself as an ambassador once again presented to the lord of the Twins, his sister Amelia of Cleves.

"Bonjour or what is it you say? Never mind, she will do." He said crudely and asked his grandson to accompany their foreign guests to the top table. William and Anne sat next to Mary. As Walder turned his head to hear what one of his sons had to say, William whispered in her ear in Latin, "Help is coming, is everything ready?"

"It is." Mary said and William moved his head indicating to explain more. "My husband's porter, he is not watching the gates."

"But others will."

"They are also indisposed." Mary's lips curved into a sadistic smile. "You'll find gold a great incentive, _Your Grace._"

William smiled in admiration of the former princess' cleverness.

As soon as the porters and the other guards left the castle unguarded and every Frey celebrated the upcoming wedding between the second in line with the lady of Cleves, the doors were opened and Philip's army came. Silent as water Arya Stark, just as Syrio Forell had taught her, crept with them. She sliced every throat, servant, child, man, she didn't care. Everyone was an enemy.

Philip showed no mercy.

When he arrived to the nursery he hesitated however but as soon as he saw the woman holding the baby, who was too frightened to do or say anything, remaining still with another baby he had assumed was her own, began to move closer to the window and release her hold on the baby, he realized that the one year old on the cradle was not Mary's son but her own.

He raised the blade Arya Stark at him and the woman screamed and pleaded with him, offering Mary's child to him. Philip took the offer, however as soon as he made sure this was Mary's son (through an 'x' birthmark on his left thigh) he plunged the sword into the other babe and sliced the woman's throat.

The woman was Roslin Frey and her babe had been killed with one single blow. He had not wept or screamed. He was too weak and many people said he would've died even if Philip had not delivered the blow. But at the present moment, Philip did not care. It was a Frey, that's all he knew and all he cared about.

He looked down into Mary's son's eyes. He was big, very big. His lips were the same color, light pink as Mary's. His eyes were a lighter blue, he suspected that was because all Freys were said to have the same color of eyes, but that didn't matter to Philip. What mattered was that this was her son and seeing the innocence radiating from his eyes, he realized he couldn't hate him. He didn't trust Arya to look after him and so he gave him to one of the soldiers, one of the few he could trust.

As he turned to leave he heard a sound coming from the darker part of the room, he followed the sound and found a smaller baby, a boy and with the same 'x' birthmark on his left thigh. "Hello there." He said to Mary's youngest son. He had not heard anything about her younger son, he believed he was dead but he was left here, discarded like some old dog Frey didn't want. _Poor thing_, he thought and he thought how it was funny that this child who looked so frail and tiny, looked more like his warrior princess, Mary.

"Guard him too." He told his men and went with the others to the dinner table. The hearth of the castle had been dealt with. Some of the younglings were dead, those who were in hiding would be found and put to death soon.

Walder Frey did not hear about the castle's siege until his Hall's doors opened and in came one of his bastard's sons with arrows on his back. He coughed blood but managed to say one word "siege."

Walder Frey stood up and told his sons to gather their men and put the lady of Cleves and the ambassador to death, but it was too late. The soldiers in the Hall that were bribed by Mary's gold, sliced his sons' throats and the ambassador stole one of Frey's men's swords and parried with his sons that came to their brothers' aid.

Mary watched this in silence, drinking from her cup. She never lifted a finger. Unlike the late lady Frey who cowered and hid underneath her lord's table, she remained seated and calm, watching the spectacle with a smile on her face.

It was here that Walder realized what she'd done and yelled at her but she remained unmoved, pouring herself more wine. Her eyes danced with a fire that he had not seen before, it was like something in her had awakened when she saw the massacre. And when Philip's and the Targaryen queen's armies came to the Hall, it was like ecstasy. Blood excited her and she gave an open smile and let out a laugh when Philip killed his favorite sons, his eldest son and his eldest bastard son.

Walder wasted no time and grabbed his wife by the hair and took out his dagger from its sheath and held it to her throat. He looked straight into Philip's eyes. "Come no further Your Grace or I will slice this bitch's throat."

"Call her a bitch one more time Frey and I will slice yours!" Philip roared griping the hilt of his bloodstained sword tighter. He took steps forward, bringing him closer to the top table.

Walder pressed the blade closer to her neck and he saw trickles of blood running down her neck. "I warn you, I will kill this whore!"

He had known all about this fugitive. The Duke of Bavaria.

The Duke of nothing! He had abandoned his fortune seeking glory with the Targaryen bitch. Thanks to the Lannisters, first with their late king Joffrey then with their queen dowager panicking over every little thing. Eventually it turned into paranoia leading to Margery Tyrell's imprisonment and her release on pressure from the Tyrells and on to Cersei's own walk of shame, Kevan Lannister's murder, Myrcella's death, and finally Tommen's. There was no heir and the capital erupted into chaos. The Tyrells, greedy lot traded their loyalties with the dragon queen with the excuse of "peace" but nobody believed them and so they were done for.

The queen of thorns lived but only to see every flower in her garden burned. Rumors abounded that her death was due to sadness but a man like Walder Frey, seasoned and old, knew there was more to the truth than what people said. Likely the woman had killed herself. With no Tyrells left, they gave Highgarden to him, something that he was only too glad to take. He always wondered why was it the dragon queen spared him but now he had his answer as Robb Stark walked into the Hall.

"So the rumors are true boy, you survived. You must be happy, every innocent in King's Landing burned or flayed alive thanks to your new queen and now you will live on to become king. The honorable king in the North."

Robb looked all around the room. There were no men close to kill Frey and no archers near either. It all depended on Philip but he would have to act fast if he wanted to save Mary.

"The place where you're standing is where your mother died boy, right after your foreign whore bled to death."

Robb growled at Frey. "Watch your words Frey, I did not come here to kill you, I leave that to His Grace Philip here. He will deal with you and give you the fate you deserve."

Walder Frey laughed. "You Starks and your hypocrisy, but if that's how you want to play, we will play. I will die but I will die with this bitch in my arms. No closer _Your Grace_." Walder said, mocking Philip's title.

"How does it feel knowing I fucked this bitch more times than you. Half of my bastards have been with her, Aemon, big Walder, little Walder, Edwin. He, he, he," he laughed a merry laugh. "I remember the first time I was in her. She screamed for you, she prayed your name, she wished for your death and yet here you are responding to this fair maiden's call. I hope you enjoy the sight of us together in death."

Philip felt deep hatred for this man and what he'd done to Mary. Still, he could not strike. It would mean Mary's death.

Mary swallowed and begged her lord to speak. Frey let her. It would be her last words so might as well.

Mary Tudor stared into Philip's eyes, she lowered them briefly to her large sleeves. She always insisted on wearing European fashions. Philip looked only for a second, but it was enough to see something shiny she was pulling from her sleeve.

They nodded at each other and gulping, she said before she made her move, "What happened after you left? Why didn't you come back?"

It was a story they knew well. Below, the Duke of Cleves and his sister Anne who put one soldier to death pushing a dagger to his neck, watched as the silent spectators they vowed they'd be.

He told Mary all about it through his spies, how Henry VIII chased him out of England and with nowhere to hide as his family did not want to get in trouble, he escaped to Cleves to his Julie-Cleves-Berg relations then to Westeros to seek his long time friend Robb Stark.

"I waited for you. More than a year I waited for you." Mary said, showing emotion for the first time. A tear escaped her eye as he told her he would have come had it not been for her father and the Lannister spies.

"Philip..."

"Yes?" Philip said, his grip tightening more if that was possible, his body shaking as she smiled a sad smile.

"I am sorry for this."

Philip returned her smile. They knew their innocence had ended. With this there was no turning back and he said, "I know." and dropped his sword.

Frey chuckled and loosened his grip. "This is what you wanted to leave me for." He mocked looking down at his wife but when she looked back he saw her smiling and something shining coming from her sleeve and then he realized, but in the second he realized it was too late. Mary kicked him in the groin in one swift move raising her knee causing him to release her, then as she took his dagger and threw it away she stabbed him with her knife, directly in the heart.

He began coughing violently and she could only guess what he said as his lips began to move and more blood came.

"This is for every night I spent in your bed, every night you gave me away to your bastards."

He tried to spit but she pushed him down and taking the knife out of his chest, she stabbed him again and again until her hands and face by the blood splattered from his body were stained.

William, Anne, and Robb looked at each other in horror as the former princess of Wales cursed the fallen Frey. Even when his body stopped writhing, she still stabbed him.

"Mary," Philip said going to calm down the savage beast that possessed her. He put his hands on her shoulders but she would not stop.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! You damn Welsh bastard's get!" She screamed harder and Philip and the rest realized that it wasn't Frey she was stabbing but her father, the man responsible for all of this.

* * *

**Next chapter is co written with ladyjax and it will be a time jump of two years.**


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